Distance
by Egg Yolk
Summary: This is the prequel to "Final Distance"--an account of what happened in ancient Egypt...what brought Seth and Yami together...and what tore them apart. Rating upped to R for violence!
1. Default Chapter

Since people have asked me to post this, I guess I will. Thank you all for your generous support! This fic is the prequel to ¡§Final Distance,¡¨ and it¡¦s called ¡§Distance.¡¨ It takes place in ancient Egypt, and yes, it is another one of those ¡§What happened in Egypt¡¨ fics. Now, there seems to be some problems about when exactly Yami ruled in Egypt as Pharaoh¡Kbut I would say about 3000 years ago because that¡¦s the way it was made in the recent Shounen JUMPs as well as the fanbook ¡§Gospel of Truth.¡¨ I¡¦m actually trying to make this as close to history as I can, so there are a few true historical figures in this fic. Also, I understand that there are some names in here that are in Egyptian and some are in Japanese because there were characters in the manga who were given Egyptian names (such as Seth=Seto), and some were not.

Disclaimers: I still do not own YuGiOh. If I did, well¡Kthe fangirls would have a field day with what I would give them.

With all that said and done, please enjoy this fic and leave comments!

Chapter 1¡XThe Slave

1388 B.C.

Shops began to open as the face of Ra shone over the busy town of the capital. The surface of the Nile glistened with a nuance of reds and oranges, along with tints of yellows here or there. The hustle and bustle of people clamored as they rushed to get ready for another day where they hoped to make more than they did yesterday. Ships docked at the ports to unload goods such as materials dyed the precious royal purple from Phoenicians, wines from the Mediterranean countries, and most of all-- slaves.

Yami awoke to the soft knocking on the door and immediately leapt out of bed, running quickly to the door. He had slept in his clothes last night in his excitement of what he¡¦d be doing today¡Xgoing into the markets with his father. Of course, they were going incognito for his father was checking up on the market status of the capital, making sure that trade was flourishing and that prices were right as well as honest trading. Yami was very proud of his father for being a wise and benevolent Pharaoh, and he wanted to be just like them¡Xthat¡¦s why he was allowed on this trip. He was hardly able to be out of the palace without guards, and this incognito trip can go very wrong if his hood were to slip off his head. Everyone in the kingdom knew that the prince of Egypt had strikingly strange features¡Xtri-colored hair of gold, black, and maroon matched with ruby-red eyes. For him to be seen on the streets would make this observational day fail with the people not acting naturally. 

¡§Are you ready, my son?¡¨ asked the Pharaoh. He smiled warmly at his ten year old son, running his hand through the spiky, gravity-defying hair. Yami had been so excited about this trip, and he was hoping that today won¡¦t mess up. The hood that covers Yami¡¦s features can very well be knocked off in the business of the streets. The excited prince nodded, his nods a bit hard to see with his incessant bouncing. The Pharaoh smiled again and held his son¡¦s shoulders firmly. ¡§Not too much bouncing now,¡¨ he warned quietly, ¡§or else your hood will fall off and everyone will know the secret.¡¨ Hearing this, Yami quickly put a finger to his lips and nodded again.

¡§Where are we going today, Father?¡¨ Yami asked, taking hold of the Pharaoh¡¦s hand as his father led him out the back door of the palace.

¡§We¡¦re going to check up on a cloth shop, my son,¡¨ the Pharaoh informed his young son. ¡§It would seem that they¡¦re not just selling cloth¡Kmy informants told me that they have another trade.¡¨ He felt safe telling this to his son. For even at such a young age, Yami has shown great knowledge in many of the political affairs needed to rule the throne when he succeeds. And yet he has not forgotten his childish side, for his extreme affinity with games has everyone in the court baffled. He has stumped almost all of the wise men, priests, and even the scribe in their best games, the court now says that if anything, he will become the king of games. For him to be trusted with such information is safe enough, the Pharaoh has decided.

¡§Slaves?¡¨ Yami asked, his ruby eyes peeking up from under the beige material of the hood that covered almost half his face. The reply was but a grim nod from his kindly father. The two of them walked on the busy streets for a few more seconds before the Pharaoh spoke again. ¡§Slaves are an important part of our society, that I know,¡¨ said Yami¡¦s father, ¡§But you must understand, my son, that there are some things that one must never do to another person, slave or not. This store, from what I¡¦ve heard, is doing just that. When I give the signal, the guards following us today will arrest the man who owns the shop.¡¨ He said this in a hushed voice as he made a small jerk with his head to motion to the two large guards who followed about three yards behind the ruler and his son. Yami gulped in anticipation. Then his father stopped in front of a small shop that was in an alley, slightly away from the rush in the main market.

The man that greeted them was a small, crooked old man with a frightening smile. His teeth looked rancid in its yellow and almost greenish color, some were missing and the ones that were still left were crooked, like the man¡¦s spine. The trader rubbed his hands together, creating a sandy sound as his raspy, hissing voice spoke up. ¡§Are you looking for textiles today, my good sir?¡¨

¡§No,¡¨ answered the Pharaoh, ¡§I am here for¡Kyou understand. Nephrin was my contact.¡¨ 

The small man¡¦s eyes lit up and he chuckled, looking up and down at the Pharaoh¡¦s clothing, calculating how much money this man in front of him may have to see which of his stock he was going to show. Then his eyes stopped on Yami. ¡§But sir,¡¨ the man said, his putrid breath making Yami gag. ¡§It would seem you already have one.¡¨

¡§I would like to find a friend for this one.¡¨

¡§Understood, sir,¡¨ the man laughed. He laughed in such a way it sounded more like someone was taking shards of broken slate and shaking them within a bag. Plus the man looked as though he were going to fall over and break on his crookedness as he shook with laughter. He then motioned for the two to come into the back with him.

The walls were lined with cages, and they only held young boys. Some of them looked a bit plain, but most of them looked quite fair, a bit pretty. But they were all caked with filth and their dark eyes were laced with fear, huddled up in those cages. A few of them were foreigners of the Mediterranean area with their curled hair and brown eyes. The Pharaoh¡¦s eyes narrowed at the sight in the dark room as he surveyed it. He shielded the anger inside his eyes as disappointment.

¡§This can¡¦t possibly be all,¡¨ the Pharaoh complained, sounding unsatisfied.

¡§But sir,¡¨ the owner answered, ¡§This is all of my stock¡K¡¨

¡§I insist that you show me something better,¡¨ interrupted the Pharaoh, ¡§Something more¡Kexotic.¡¨ A hand reached towards his belt and he pulled out a bag of coins, jingling them in front of the merchant for emphasis. The greedy little man stared at the bag and almost drooled, his hands reaching up for the bag before the Pharaoh pulled it away, out of reach.

¡§Understood,¡¨ the merchant snickered. ¡§Just a few days ago, a truly exotic one came in¡K I was planning on keeping him for myself, actually¡K¡¨ He motioned for the two to follow him deeper into the narrow shop, into a room that was hidden in the way back and bolted twice.

The unlocked room presented a boy with hair the color of the earth lying on the ground, dressed in nothing but soiled rags, his hands bound behind his back and his feet bound at the ankles with rough, thick rope that rubbed the boy¡¦s ankles raw and bit into the skin of his wrists, drawing blood. The boy twitched at the sound of people entering into the room and wiggled, shouting curses from a dry, parched mouth into a dirty gag. He lifted his head and Yami could see that his eyes were covered. The man motioned for the Pharaoh to examine the boy, and the Pharaoh put his fingers onto the boy¡¦s cheeks, forcing his mouth open to check his teeth. His fingers rubbed a bit of the filth off the boy¡¦s soft skin, and Yami saw that the boy was as pale as ivory, not like the natives of Egypt, not even like the Mediterranean dwellers.

¡§Why the blindfold?¡¨ the Pharaoh asked, looking at the boy, trying to suppress his anger and his pity.

¡§His eyes, sir, they¡¦re BLUE,¡¨ the vermin-like merchant explained. ¡§This boy isn¡¦t like those stocks outside; he¡¦s from the island very north. The land the Phoenicians call Briton. He¡¦s of the Belgae clan, those people who live around those strange columns of stone, I¡¦ve heard. The traders who sold him to me said that the people there hold such great magical powers, such blasphemous powers. And it is said that the color blue enhances magical abilities¡Kso I have to keep him blindfolded. When he is good enough to use, I suggest you gouge out his eyes and¡X¡§

¡§ENOUGH!¡¨ the Pharaoh finally snapped. He stood up immediately and snapped his fingers. Within an instant, the two guards who had followed them as far as to the entrance of the shop came rushing in, grabbing hold of the small wiry merchant. ¡§I am now putting you under arrest for illegal slave trade¡Ktrading them off to brothels! You disgust me.¡¨ His nose wrinkled and even Yami shrunk back to see his father so angry. Now that the merchant has finally gotten a good view at the Pharaoh¡¦s face, he was begging for mercy, but nothing can help him as he was dragged out by one of the guards.

¡§Free all those boys out there and see if you can get them all back to their homes when you get the scribes to communicate with them,¡¨ ordered the Pharaoh. The guard bowed in response as he went into the preceding room to unlock all the cages.

As though sensing something was wrong, the brown hair boy lying on the ground suddenly became still, listening for other sounds. Slowly, Yami approached the boy and pulled off the manacles that bound him as well as the gag and the blindfold. The boy immediately shielded his eyes, unaccustomed to the sudden invasion of light. When he removed his hand from his eyes, Yami¡¦s breath hitched in his throat.

His eyes were blue. Although he had heard the merchant say it before, the actual experience of seeing those eyes was a completely different thing. Those eyes were such a deep blue they seemed to entice and pull whoever cast gaze on them down into a spiral of unrelenting trance. And in this trance, Yami asked the question that would change his life.

¡§Father¡Kcan I keep this one?¡¨

To be continued¡K

Well, Seth¡¦s skin in here is pale. I decided to do that cuz in the recent issues of JUMP, the artist seemingly forgot to tone his skin when he appeared, so I¡¦m making him pale. And just so you know, Briton is Britain, back at this age, and Seth is from a clan that lived really close to the Stonehenge (built 3000B.C). 


	2. The Belgae

Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh, nor any characters affiliated with the product. The only thing I own here is probably the original plotline.  
  
Chapter 2-The Belgae  
  
"What do you mean, 'keep him?'" the Pharaoh asked, surprised that his son would propose such a question. Sure, the Pharaoh kept slaves himself, all over his castle, but they were more like "servants" than "slaves." Also, he just thought that it wasn't right to keep a slave from this sort of joint when he advocated a law that was precisely against it. His own son.to want a slave from this place, of all places? Yami handed the boy his water skin, seeing that the boy's lip was bleeding from lack of water, and shrugged. "I don't know.I just.would like to keep him. Not as a slave, as a friend," he answered, watching the boy with intense interest. At first, the boy had shrunk back as the water skin was offered to him, but the Prince smiled in such a reassuring way, he reached out and took the water skin and drank desperately. As he handed the empty water skin back, Yami felt rewarded with the smile that the boy gave him.  
  
The Pharaoh sighed, knowing that there was really no way to argue with his son. It's not like his son was in anyway abusive or obnoxious to his own assigned servants, either. And it would perhaps be nice to let his son have a friend who was bound to him by name instead of by the thought of kissing up to the Prince. Yami had gone through several youths around his age, including his own cousin, who just wanted the favors and advantages of being his "friend." Shaking his head, the Pharaoh shrugged and walked over to his son, lifting him onto his feet and then the slave boy, who made a small whimpering sound of fear before collapsing on his feet again, having been bound to the ground for perhaps a week.  
  
"Don't be afraid," Yami assured the boy, offering him his hand, "You belong to me now, I'll be good to you."  
  
"We'll have to see if he has a home to return to first," the Pharaoh reminded Yami. "If he does, then it's only right to send him back."  
  
"Don't.need." the boy said suddenly, pulling himself up with the help of Yami. His blue eyes focused, and he looked quite alert now, but his eyes were not harsh or blaming in any way. "Home.burned," he struggled with the foreign language, searching for words that he had picked up within the week that would fit his sentence.  
  
"Do you understand us?" Yami asked, surprised. Some of his slaves still needed to use hand gestures to communicate with him, and yet this boy was making half intelligible sentences. The boy made a signal with his fingers, bending his index finger and his thumb to make an incomplete circle, showing that he understood only a bit of Egyptian.  
  
"Your home was burned down?" the Pharaoh asked, concerned. The boy nodded, biting his lip and looking away. "Did your family escape.? Any survivors?" the Pharaoh tried not to press, but if the boy had anyone left, anyone at all, he would be able to go back and perhaps start over. He could leave on the ship that was leaving tonight with the other slave boys that were to be sold in this small store. But the optimism was crushed as the boy shook his head, blue eyes dimming a shade but glistening with dammed tears, trying to be strong in the face of strangers. "All.killed.Phoenicians." he whispered, his voice cracking. He backed away from the two of them, against the wall as though wishing that he could just melt into the wall, ashamed that he had allowed his voice to crack and let his tears fall so freely. The Pharaoh glanced at the boy with pure pity and then at his son, who advanced towards the boy.  
  
"There, there," soothed the young prince. "Don't cry. It'll be all right, you'll see." He handed the boy his red handkerchief as he placed a comforting hand on the trembling shoulder. "We can be your family. I'll be your new brother.and your friend."  
  
The boy took the handkerchief with timid, shaking hands and looked at Yami, searching for malice or pity in those ruby depths. He didn't want pity from anyone, especially in such a foreign place like this; but what he saw was utter compassion, compassion for a complete stranger such as he, and this emotion drove him speechless. Shaking his head, he finally conjured up what he could in a slurred tongue. "Who.ur.you...?"  
  
"My name is Yami," the prince introduced himself, understanding the boy immediately. He smiled and turned to his father, who smiled back as the boy showed the first steps of opening up by taking interest in them. As though contaminated by Yami's good nature, the boy smiled as well and said something that was very long and sounded like he was clicking his tongue and making popping sounds with his lips. When he saw that Yami and the Pharaoh stare back at him with blank faces, he blushed.  
  
"Hebrews.see my eyes.call me 'Seth,'" the boy said. He was ready to throw away his old name, his horrible past, if need be, if could be adopted into a good family here in this foreign land and forget about the horrible incident that happened in his village before he was brought here.  
  
"Seth is it." the Pharaoh confirmed. Seth affirmed with a small bob of his head. The Pharaoh nodded and mentally shook away the thought that had initially gnawed at the back of his mind when he heard the name. "Seth" means "appointed" in the language of the slaves.but it is also a variation of "Set".the god of Chaos and Destruction.  
  
"Well," the Pharaoh announced, clapping his hands together to get Yami's attention. "Since it's settled that Seth will be staying with us now, I suppose we should take him back to the palace to get cleaned up."  
  
"Palace.?" Seth parroted. He's heard the merchant say before in his vermin voice about how some slaves may make some good money in the palace. Piecing the vaguely familiar word in his mind with his own word, his eyes widened when the two pieces clicked. "You.from the palace.?" Not waiting for an answer, he quickly got on his knees, lowering his head. Yami rushed to get him to stand back up, away from the filth that was on the dirt floor. "Yes," Yami said, "Yes, we're from the palace, but don't kneel like a slave. I said that you're going to be my friend, didn't I?"  
  
"I-I'll be honored." Seth stammered. The Pharaoh smiled lightly, the thought of this boy's name completely out of mind now. How can such a timid and gentle-looking boy who gets nervous at everything be named after the god of Chaos and Destruction? It must just be a Hebrew who got frightened by his blue eyes. He walked over to Seth and picked the skinny boy up, not caring that his own clothes will be soiled by the dirty rags that Seth was wearing, and hoisted him up on his shoulders. "Then we should be going," the Pharaoh said, signaling for a pouting Yami to follow along.  
  
*** Ptolemy paced around the top of the staircase in front of the palace gates. He had been waiting here since Ra had shown his face over the palace, and yet his brother was nowhere to be found; he didn't even show up for the morning audience! Nearly fuming, he snapped at the fifth unfortunate slave who approached him to ask if he would like to wait inside in the shade of the palace before Ra's might knocked him to ground. Grunting angrily as the frightened slave scurried away, Ptolemy went back to his thoughts, to the proposal he had for his brother today, which just a revision of the one that he'd been preaching for the past three years-to allow his son, Akhenaton, to join the Shadow Games. Each half year he had proposed the idea to his brother, the Pharaoh, and each year he was refused. Gnashing his teeth at the thought of his brother's last humiliating rejection of his proposal, Ptolemy sped up his pacing.  
  
"Ptolemy, what are you doing?" the Pharaoh asked, reaching the top of the staircase to see his younger and very agitated brother nearly pacing a trench into the ground.  
  
"Ah, dear brother!" Ptolemy exclaimed, a fake smile fashioned to the best he can cracking over his face. "Where in the world were you? I was worried sick!" In truth, he would rather that the Pharaoh be killed in some freak accident and take his abnormal-looking prince with him.  
  
"Just out on the markets, Ptolemy, did you have something you want to ask me?" the Pharaoh asked, placing Seth gently onto the ground. Seth looked up at Ptolemy and noted, with his keen blue eyes, that the man had a strange and slightly aggravating feature, both in looks and in spirit. Ptolemy had a tall, long nose, just like Seth had heard from the descriptions of Egyptians that travelers told in his old village. The man wore a fluffy wig that was fashioned to a collar length on his head with a gold headband securing it in place. Although he also smelled of gold and oils like the Pharaoh, Seth thought that Ptolemy's scent was putrid compared to the regal smell that the Pharaoh held. He edged away from Ptolemy and towards Yami.  
  
"Why I." Ptolemy started but then sniffed with abnormally large nostrils on his tall nose. "What is THAT?" he demanded, showing an obvious amount of disgust in his eyes as he peered down at Seth.  
  
"He's Seth," explained the Pharaoh, "Yami's friend from a foreign land. We're keeping him in the palace."  
  
"It's a pile of pure filth!" Ptolemy exclaimed, pulling out a silk handkerchief and waving it under his long nose, fanning away the sour scent that covered Seth due to his stay at the small shop dungeon.  
  
"Stop addressing Seth like he's an object!" Yami shouted, offended.  
  
"SO sorry, my dear Prince and nephew," Ptolemy droned, his voice thick with sarcasm. The Pharaoh sighed and shook his head. He knew that his son hated Ptolemy, who was the High Priest only because of the appointment of the late Pharaoh, their father and Yami's grandfather, but there was really nothing he can do about it. If he were to favor his son, which he thirsted to do, Ptolemy would give him incredible hell with his prattling. But if he were to do nothing, Yami would continue to show disrespect towards Ptolemy. As much as the man deserved it, the Pharaoh still didn't encourage it, thinking that it would ruin his son's image.  
  
"I plan to have him educated by Yami's scribe Shimon," the Pharaoh announced.  
  
"You can't be serious!" Ptolemy shouted, alarmed. "Slaves should never be educated, and this boy is no exception, whether or NOT he's a foreigner." He then studied Seth a bit more closely and then stepped back. "A Belgae!" he screeched, waving his handkerchief over-dramatically. "Those blasphemous foreigners. Brother, you can't be serious when you say you're keeping this boy. I've heard things from travelers. They say that the Belgae are really devils with wings in disguise, waiting for right moment to pounce on you and eat your children! And his blue eyes.atrociously abnormal." His extended finger pointed at Seth's blue eyes, making the tiny boy cover them self-consciously.  
  
"Well, I am. And your theory of the Belgae goes right up there with your thoughts that the ka does not really need a body to go back to in the afterlife and thus we should stop embalmment altogether," the Pharaoh ground out, getting impatient at Ptolemy's screeching voice. "And please tell me what is it that you want so that I may go on with my daily duties. I'm a busy man."  
  
"Ah yes!" Ptolemy recalled. "I am here to propose that my son be allowed to join the Shadow."  
  
"Rejected," the Pharaoh interrupted. He then summoned a servant, thinking that the conversation was over. "Take this boy inside and clean him up, will you? And give him something decent to wear."  
  
"Amenhotep!" Ptolemy shrieked, his anger frothing out from his mouth as his nostrils flared. "Don't you reject my proposal again! Why is it that your son of eight summers, four summers younger than my son, be allowed and mine not?!"  
  
The Pharaoh spun around on his heels and glared daggers at his younger brother. "Ptolemy," he hissed, "Don't you dare address me by name. Even if you're my brother, you are still the High Priest and I the Pharaoh. Know your place." With that, he blocked out all that was his brother for the rest of the trip back into the palace, ignoring the sneer that was thrown towards him. He patted Seth's head as the nervous youth was lead away by a smiling female servant, oblivious to the hatred that was being channeled towards him.  
  
Seth cast one last glance at Ptolemy before he was lead inside by the soft hand that encircled his, the owner of it a smiling, slightly darker woman with a kind voice. The glare that Ptolemy shot back at him was full of such pure hatred it sent shivers down Seth's spine.  
  
To be continued.  
  
The name Ptolemy was stolen from the name of Cleopatra's father, Ptolemy XII, but this one isn't a true historical character. Also, I mixed up the family tree of the Egyptian rulers of this time a bit, and you'll understand my doings as this story progresses (another reason is to fit Yami in here). As of now, Seth is still the kind, gentle little boy he started out as, but that will change fast. Oh, and Shimon is the name of Sugoroku in Egypt, as JUMP had made it. He was the scribe/adviser of Yami.  
  
For those who are also reading and following the sequel to this, you might have a bit of a clue at who exactly is the person in Kaiba's dreams now, right? 


	3. Venomous Treachery

Bwah, stupid HTML coding on my OS. It seems that the HTML coding will only work if it's saved in HMTL format on the family computer downstairs, not the one on my laptop.because a few chapters of "Final Distance" had to be saved in HTML format before I was allowed to upload them in FF.net, and they worked fine. I'm wondering if I should edit the chapter I posted of FD8.I hope that won't kill the reviews that were given for that chapter.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own the YGO characters.don't want to own Ptolemy, but it would seem that he's a part of my brain. Bleh.  
  
Chapter 3-Venomous Treachery  
  
"Psst, Seth," Yami whispered as saw Shimon walk out of the scroll room where Seth and Yami conducted their studies together, leaving them to finish their "class work." "Seth." The other boy, who was actually putting up with the mustiness and dank smell of the scroll room, completely immersed in his studies, looked up. His blue eyes looked blankly at Yami and he smiled lightly. "What is it, my Prince?" he asked, setting his scroll down. "Do you need help with your studies again?" His tone was teasing as he was long since finished with his own work but stayed behind as to keep Yami company since he knew that Shimon's lecturing can get quite boring at times. Whenever he stayed behind, the two often made faces behind their scrolls and a tablet, snickering at whose face was the funniest, resulting in Shimon's absolute exasperation. But it wasn't like Shimon can complain about it, either, for he couldn't have asked for a bigger honor as the Pharaoh's scribe. He was appointed to tutor Yami, the prince, and even though that was a handful, it was still the best teaching job in all of Egypt. And now that Yami has brought home his foreign friend, Shimon was delighted and also quite shocked that he was almost running out of things to teach Seth.  
  
Seth had been staying at the kingdom for almost two moons now, and Shimon was quite pleased at the progress that the boy was making. He had started his lessons a day after he settled into the palace, and he picked up the Egyptian language within a week, an astounding rate. Later, he quickly caught up with Yami's studies and eventually had a chance of surpassing him, but he decided to stay behind a bit. The Pharaoh was very thrilled at the reports that Shimon brought back for him about the little servant's extensive essays and diagrams about religion, math, and architecture. Yami's studies were average, but not as good as Seth's, but the Prince didn't seem to mind as long as he managed to beat Seth in every game they've ever played each other.  
  
"No," scoffed Yami, "I'm done with my work, thankyouverymuch." Seth covered his mouth delicately and chuckled, a motion that he picked up from the female servant that bathed him on the first day he arrived at the palace. A woman from the southern parts of Egypt, her name was Ishisu, a variation of the name of the goddess Isis, for she looked very much like the way the wife of Osirus did in paintings. She had acted like an older sister to him and often taught him small things that he couldn't learn from Shimon, such as certain roots that could be found in the fields and which ones are safe to eat, to use as medicine, etc. She was a priestess in training, but also did servant's work on the side since she wasn't here due to any royal blood running through her veins but because the Pharaoh discovered her affinity with magic on a trip to the south and brought her back. The only real reason why she had to do such servants' work was actually to humor Ptolemy, who was outraged that the Pharaoh had brought home "a stray."  
  
"Stop it," Yami said, giving Seth a small whap on the back of his hand. "You look like Ishisu." He liked the woman himself, she was nice, but sometimes she was too nagging to his liking. Seth smiled and nodded. "What is it that you want, then?"  
  
"Let's sneak out the palace after our lessons!" Yami suggested, his voice excited as his red eyes sparkled not only from the sunlight that was pouring in from the small window dug into the mud walls. "I found a place that's close enough to the palace so that we can get back quickly but can get away from all the guards! Then they won't give us grief about how loud we are during Micare!" The last time they had played the game, the guards as well as Ptolemy had yelled at them as their shouts got way too loud, and Akhenaton, Yami's cousin, had also charged out screaming and crying about how Yami didn't invite him along. Frankly, Yami was sick and tired of his cousin and uncle, who were so much alike in so many ways.  
  
Seth considered the proposition and cocked his head, the longer parts of his bangs covering his eyes more than it usually did, and he brushed them away absently. Finally, after a moment of weighty silence that hung over the thick air mingling with smells of papyrus, Seth nodded. Yami beamed, his grin growing wider than it was before and quickly reached over to roll up Seth's scroll. "Great!" he shouted, jumping up from his seating cushion to the shelves to stuff their finished scrolls into their respective compartments. "Then I'll go and get ready! And I can also get some chuck bones," Yami said as he walked to the door of the scroll room, where he promptly bumped into Ptolemy. Seth made a small gasp that he tried to disguise as a cough inside the dusty scroll room, but it would seem that Ptolemy caught it and shot him a disgusted glare-not that the looks he gave Seth were never disgusted.  
  
"Ah, my Prince." Ptolemy said in his droning voice as he looked down at the boy with the tri-colored hair. "Where do you think you're going? Are your studies finished, I hope?" Yami sneered at him defiantly as he motioned for Seth to come to his side, his ruby eyes glaring up at his uncle. "Out," Yami answered, his tone bold to show that he wasn't going to back down, especially not in front of a man like Ptolemy.  
  
"And only bringing that servant boy with you?" Ptolemy asked, faking concern for the prince's safety.  
  
"Yes," Yami said, grabbing hold of a creamy-white wrist to pull Seth closer to him. He always believed in strength in numbers, no matter how much smaller he and Seth were compared to the long, gangling form of the current High Priest.  
  
"And where would you be going, dear Prince?" Ptolemy continued his interrogation. Seth made a small sound of protest to Ptolemy's question and Yami stuck his tongue out at Ptolemy, a sign to adults in the palace that he was at the end of his temper. "None of your concern!" Yami shouted. With that, he and Seth squeezed between the narrow opening that the small door allowed with Ptolemy standing there, as skinny as the annoying man was. Ptolemy stood at the doorway minutes after the two boys ran from him, his eyes narrowing dangerously before he walked away after seeing the two of them split up at the end of the hallways, each to their respective chambers.  
  
Ra was hanging high overhead, right in the middle of the heavens as the two boys snuck out the back of the palace, the prince dressed in a plain olive- green tunic and Seth following him. The place that Yami had "discovered" was on the outskirts of the palace grounds, a place that he would have to himself to do as he wished when he inherited the kingdom, completely untouched by anyone else in the palace, not even his own father. The land that was chosen was close to a cliff that dropped into the ocean's delta at the mouth of the Nile River, making it easy for irrigation if Yami were to ever choose to do such a thing when he obtained this place. As of now, this was the perfect playground for the young prince and his friend, untouched by the adults of the palace, and not even the guards came this far of a distance. There was simply nothing to steal in this field of wild flowers and untamed, tall grass.  
  
Reaching their destination, Yami and Seth stood a few feet away from the edge of the cliff, enjoying the view before they faced each other, hands behind their backs. They nodded, signaling the start of the game, and a blur shot from their backs, their right hands indicating a number by their fingers.  
  
"Four!"  
  
"Two! I win!" Yami yelled triumphantly, a bit too loud even though there was the need to shout over the waves beneath them. They concealed their right hands behind their backs again and repeated.  
  
"One!"  
  
"Four! Darn it," Seth said as he looked at his finger and then at Yami's outspread five. Yami laughed, having won again and the two continued their game, their voices growing increasingly louder as the game became faster- paced. Eventually they tumbled onto the ground and laughed their throats dry and scratchy. Taking a break, Yami pulled out his pouch and pulling out a water pouch, taking a sip before offering it to Seth, who accepted it graciously, taking a sip to quench his parched lips, letting the water sooth his shouting-worn throat and handed it back to Yami. Putting that away, Yami then proceeded to pull out chuck stones from the very same pouch, standing up again. Seth followed the motion and stepped back a bit more, further from the cliff.  
  
"Scared?" Yami teased.  
  
"With good reason," Seth answered, "You can fall to your death, you know." Yami shrugged and stepped away from the cliff as well. He had been trained to not fear the idea of putting life on the line during a game due to his schooling in the Shadow Games, something that Seth was not at all familiar with.  
  
"Let's see if you can beat me this time," Yami challenged as he rolled the five chuck stones in his hand, getting the feel of their weight. Seth stood his ground, steadying himself for perhaps a leap that he may have to do for those chuck stones. With a bony white blur, the five stones were in the air and both boys put out their hands to try and catch the chuck stones on the backs of their hands. Seth made a dive for one of them, but Yami, in his excitement, flung his hand upwards and knocked it away, a few feet behind him.  
  
"That's cheating!" Seth protested, having caught only two. But because Yami knocked that one chuck stone away, they were tied for this round.  
  
"It's a tie, don't get your tunic in a twist," Yami laughed as he sauntered towards the fallen chuck stone next to a few sprouting wildflowers. But as soon he reached his hand down to pick up the chuck stone, he drew his hand back up as quickly as though he had been burned. He screamed in shock and pain.  
  
The wound inflicted, however, was worse than a burn.  
  
"Yami?!" Seth exclaimed, running towards the prince and blanching as he saw a large black snake attached to the prince's wrist. Without a second though, Seth grabbed the dagger he kept to defend himself outside the palace and ran towards Yami, swinging it full force, aiming just right so that he cut off the snake's head in one swift slash. The remaining body of the snake wiggled on the ground for another second before it stopped dead, and Yami fell to his knees next to it, pulling the severed head off his wrist. His breath was heaving as he panicked.  
  
"Don't panic!" Seth ordered as he moved towards Yami, pulling Yami's inflicted arm towards him.  
  
"Easy for you to say!" Yami refuted as he saw a small purple cloud appear on his skin next to his wound, like a bad bruise. Blackish blood dripped from the two little holes. He whimpered in fear and disgust at the sight of such oddity happening to him. Seth bit his lip and pulled the drawstring off Yami's pouch, tying it tightly around Yami's arm, just a bit above the wound. "Do you have anything that's round and flat?" Seth demanded, his blue eyes looking up at Yami, trying to be reassuring. His strong gaze faltered a bit, though, when he saw that Yami's lip was turning a slight shade of blue. He knew that he was racing against time now. A tanned hand slipped inside the olive-green tunic and pulled out a cartouche pendant on a golden chain, the sign of royalty that Yami carried around with him always. Seth's slender, shaking fingers gripped it and he yanked it off in one hard pull, breaking the chain around Yami's neck. At first Yami had the urge to yell at Seth for pulling breaking his necklace, but he figured at in this sort of situation, Seth knew what was best.  
  
Taking the cartouche pendant, Seth pressed it against Yami's paling skin, on the purple parts that was spreading around the wound and began to pull it, drawing lines towards the two small teeth holes. Yami watched through amazed yet blurry eyes as he saw that the purple splotch on his skin began to lessen in radius as more black blood oozed from his wound. After doing this for a few minutes, however, Seth saw that the poison had gathered at the opening of the wound and was threatening to clot, the venom of the snake being a blood type instead of a nervous type, thank Ra. This gave him a big advantage despite the bleak situation. He let out a small sigh of nervousness and lowered his head.  
  
What happened next, Yami couldn't recall fully since his mind was burning not only from the sun but also the effects of the poison. His eyes felt heavy and he could only see a small amount of the orange light through the veil of his lids over his eyes as Seth's head dipped. But he remembered his breath hitching as he felt soft lips press against his wound and then a heat that shot through the iciness of the venom, then something like suction. Seth was sucking the poison out of his wound. For a few seconds that heat stayed there, then the mouth released the wound and Yami heard spitting before the mouth returned, fluttering closed over his wound and repeating the same procedure. For a while, the two of them just stayed that way, Yami's breath racing for reasons he didn't know why, but his heart felt at peace, not as panicked as he was feeling just moments ago when the cursed serpent had bitten him. He drew a long sigh, smelling the scent of lotus that Seth had because Ishisu had insisted that he always be bathed in water that was doused in bath oils with such a scent. Now he understood why, the scent suited the boy well. The mouth left the wound again, and this time Yami was feeling considerably better, but still feverish.  
  
Searching around, Seth found a root that Ishisu had pointed out to him when she took him out on an afternoon stroll after her chores were finished. He had heard that it was good for snake bites, but he wasn't sure if it worked on all snake bites. A gamble was better than doing nothing, he decided, and he pulled the roots out. Rushing back to Yami's side, he poured water over the wound and then a bit over the roots to wash them free of the soil. Then he shoved the roots in his mouth, ignoring the bitterness that brought stinging tears into his eyes as he chewed it and then placed the crushed roots over Yami's wounds with delicate fingers. His hand went to the prince's forehead and he realized that Yami was still feverish and was in desperate need of a proper healer. Before hoisting Yami onto his back, Seth ripped a bit of his own tunic and wrapped it around Yami's wound, securing the crushed roots there. Then he hurried back to the palace, glancing back only once at the snake he's never seen before in these regions.  
  
*** The pacing of the adults was driving him crazy. Absolutely insane. Why can't they just sit down and wait like civilized people instead of rambling around like caged animals? But what really bothered Seth was the look on Ptolemy's face. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it seemed as though the man whom he deemed almost as noxious as the snake that had wounded Yami. He had an unreadable expression, but for all Seth knew, it wasn't one of concern like the ones worn on Shimon and the Pharaoh's face. He wondered if he was the only one who caught it or if the others were too busy pacing and staring at the curtained door that lead to the healing room.  
  
Minutes passed like hours and finally Ishisu lifted the curtains to the door, walking out with a sigh.  
  
"How is he?" the Pharaoh inquired, stopping in his tracks. Seth caught a flash of excited expectation in Ptolemy's eyes, a look that he couldn't shake away.  
  
"He's going to be fine," Ishisu answered with a smile. She looked worn out but quite satisfied with her work. Peering over the Pharaoh's shoulder, she walked over to Seth and grinned at him, her hands on her hips. "Good work," she said, placing a hand over Seth's silky brown hair. "If not for your quick thinking and first aid maneuvers, there would have been no helping him."  
  
A hand reached out and grabbed Seth to his feet, and another hand connected with his cheek in a resounding slap. Ishisu gasped before Seth could register what just happened, and then he saw Ptolemy's infuriated face in front of his.  
  
"What were you THINKING taking the prince outside the palace walls for him to be bitten by a poisonous snake?!" boomed Ptolemy.  
  
"I." Seth was stumped, his mouth unable to form any words as he placed a hand to his burning cheek.  
  
"Stop it, Ptolemy!" the Pharaoh shouted, going to Seth's side. "Accidents can happen anywhere, with anyone. Will you slap me the way you did Seth if I were the one who was with Yami today? I will not tolerate you striking my son's servants like this!" Ptolemy stepped back, looking defeated and then lowered his head in what looked like shame. "I'm sorry, Your Highness," he whispered, "I.I guess I was just too upset to think. If the prince had been killed, I."  
  
"But he is fine now," the Pharaoh said, "And we should leave him to rest up." He gave a small push to Seth's back, encouraging the Belgae to go into the healing room to accompany the prince. Seth nodded and watched as the Pharaoh turned to walk down the hall back to the throne room where more work waited for him, Ptolemy following him.  
  
"Ishisu," Seth murmured, tugging on the skirt of the healer. "Have you ever seen a snake that's completely black around this region?"  
  
"No," Ishisu answered, wiping her hands of the smell of medicine that covered them. "But back home in the south, my little brother Malik once saw one.my father said that they are the most venomous of snakes in Egypt, but they only thrive in the south. Why?"  
  
"Nothing." Seth whispered, throwing a suspicious glance at Ptolemy before he bowed to Ishisu and entered the healing room.  
  
Could it be.?  
  
Upon entering the healing chamber, Seth's nose was tickled by the strong healing incense Ishisu lit to sooth the patient inside, easing him to sleep. Cough stifled, the boy tottered over to the Prince who had been laid on the healing bed. His wrist had been wrapped carefully in white gauze, and now rested over his chest, on top of the brown blanket that covered him. The strip of tunic that Seth had ripped and bound Yami's wound was discarded into a bowl by the bed, covered in the black-red blood that was now turning a sick color of clay. Seth crouched down beside the bed and turned the darker hand over to place the cartouche pendant and its broken gold chain into the palm of the hand. Stirring at the touch, one vermillion eye peeked open. Upon seeing Seth, the other eye opened and the owner of the fiery brilliance turned his head to look at Seth.  
  
"Sorry to have woken you," Seth apologized.  
  
"Oh, no need for that," Yami said, waving his unwounded hand. "I should be thanking you. So how long am I here for?"  
  
"Ishisu said you should be here for another day or so," answered the fair- skinned boy. Then, considering for a few seconds, Seth swallowed hard before asking perhaps the most sensitive question he will ever ask in his relationship with the young prince. "Do you think that.the snake could have been planted there?"  
  
"What, you mean like an assassin?" Yami replied, sounding almost humorously excited that he was already enough of a threat to someone that the person would actually want to kill him. Sure, there had been assassination attempts, only towards his dear father and all of them have been successfully foiled thanks to his six priests and his loyal guards.  
  
"Yes." Seth finally croaked after a long pause. The thick smoke of incense was sucked into his mouth, scratching against the roof of his mouth as it entered his throat, cajoling him to cough. He held it back, however, and it brought stinging tears to his eyes, causing Yami to snicker at the reddening face. But the snickering stopped as soon as the next sentence found its way out from where it seemed to have been clogged there by the smoke in the throat and off Seth's tongue. The boy immediately regretted making such a suggestion as soon as he saw Yami's reaction to the accusation he made.  
  
"I think it's Ptolemy," he said. The snickering ceased immediately and Yami's mouth became a thin line. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he struggled to support himself up by his elbows. Seth reached out to urge him to lie back down, but Yami refused his help.  
  
"That's absurd," Yami protested, his voice as thick the censure that permeated through the small healing room. "Why would my own uncle try to kill me?" Frightened by the predator-like stance that Yami was putting up with the way he raised on the bed, Seth shrank back like a frightened kitten.  
  
"I."  
  
"No!" Yami shouted, coughing when he sucked in the smothering incense. His hands stretched out and grabbed Seth's with such ferocity it made the other boy yelp out in pain. Their joined hands trembled; Yami's in its hard clutch over Seth's, and Seth's in the stinging pain of the ensnaring grip. "That's absurd," Yami repeated, his red eyes locked on luminous blue ones. "As much as I dislike him Seth, I am sure he would not want to kill me. I don't want to hear it ever again." When he saw Seth try to pull away, he clutched harder.  
  
"Promise me!" he shouted. Unable to withstand the pain or writhe away from it, Seth nodded rapidly, sighing deeply in relief a his hand was released.  
  
"I.I promise," he reassured Yami. The Prince, now satisfied, lied back down onto the small bed. Seth watched Yami until the Prince fell asleep again after having strained himself so much, neither of them saying anymore. Only when Seth heard the soft breathing of Yami that indicated sleep did he get up and make his way out of the healing room.  
  
For the next hour, Seth's palm bore the imprint of Yami's name on his palm, pressed in by the cartouche as though marking ownership.  
  
For the next two years, Seth let everything that Ptolemy did slide.  
  
.but that was only for the next two years.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Well.that seemed a bit shota there.damn. I guess I'll have to skip over the years really quickly; otherwise this fic will turn into a big shotacon fest.  
  
The games that Seth and Yami played in here are actually games that the ancient Roman children played, probably having been brought over by the travelers and traders in Egypt. The game Micare is a game where two players put their right hands behind their backs and give a signal like a nod and then both players will shoot out their hands with a certain number of fingers extended. Each player shouts out a number at the same time the hands are revealed, trying to guess the number of fingers on their opponent's hand. Whoever guesses right wins.  
  
The game with the "chuck stones" is called "Knucklebones," and it's a game where five chuck stones (it's actually the cubic bones on a sheep's foot) are thrown into the air and the players try to catch them with the back of their hands.  
  
And there's a bit of snakebite first aid for you.take a coin and draw the poison out of the wound, then suck it out (but make sure that you don't' have cuts on your mouth). I'm sure there are roots that can help out in the wild...but I'm not sure which ones^^; It's always best to just take the victim to a hospital as soon as possible.  
  
And due to the fact that I return to school on Monday (1/13), fics will not be updated as often.I think. 


	4. Wings

Okay, first, I would just like to say how I am very sorry that this chapter came out so late. I am really trying to make it so that the updated chapters of "Final Distance" and "Distance" won't conflict with each other in the sense that they will give out too many spoilers of each other. I hope that no one is too confused at what's happening or that my chapters are too short (in my opinion, the chapters to "Distance" are much shorter than that of "Final Distance"). Another reason why I posted this up so late is that I just know you guys will hate me after this chapter. But thank you all again for your wonderful reviews! Sorry to the ones on MM.org.I put an extension to the third chapter of this story and it killed your reviews.  
  
On with the story!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them! I don't even want Ptolemy, someone please take him off my hands. Also, warnings to this chapter for graphic violence. At least I think it's graphic.  
  
Chapter 4--Wings  
  
Yami watched intently at the foreign boy sitting across from him, his heart thumping with anticipation. The two of them have now been learning magic for some time, Seth of the sole reason of self-defense and Yami for the sake that he would soon inherit his father's place in the Shadow Games. At first the Pharaoh was hesitant about allowing Seth to be educated with the arts of magic at all, the endless two-year bickering of Ptolemy finally influencing him a bit. But, like a shoulder angel to Ptolemy's shoulder devil, Yami argued stubbornly until the Pharaoh gave in and allowed Seth to be educated in only basic magic. As soon as Seth was allowed to touch magic, however, he gobbled it up like a grand feast, unable to get enough. Eventually, he had no more to learn over what was basic. Seeing that he had such talent in magic, the Pharaoh was tempted to allow him to go into the same studies as Yami, but didn't go through due to Ptolemy's opposition. The High Priest gave the Pharaoh two weeks of Hell about how "The little Belgae demon would blow up Egypt in a heartbeat if he were taught how to use a fireball spell." Therefore, it was now forbidden to teach any advanced magic to Seth, as talented as he was. Defiance, however, was not an easy thing to overcome, and Yami made it his job to sneak his teaching scrolls to his friend. Amazingly enough, Seth was able to comprehend all of them within mere hours and try them out in secret.  
  
Now, the two boys were sitting inside Ishisu's room since the healer had gone on her training pilgrimage to become a priestess. She left about a year ago, when her magic was deemed strong enough to allow her to survive the spiritual quest. She left her room vacant and free for Yami and Seth to sneak in every so often to play games, and as times when on and in times like these, for Seth to practice his magic without fear of Ptolemy's "eye and ears." The pair was practicing something that Yami had a hard time grasping-stone prediction, which Seth remembered seeing his own sweet mother practice back at home a long, long time ago. It was really simple to him, just place the stones a certain way on a piece of animal hide next to the right herbs and bones, then toss certain stones here or there to see how things come out. Apparently Yami couldn't get it, so he was watching how Seth's predictions would come out.  
  
"Will it rain soon?" Yami asked, licking his parched lips. He leaned over to study the placement of the rocks and bones that Seth had set, trying to remember it in his own mind. He was worried about the conditions of the rain; the flooding of the Nile this year had, for some reason, been overdue for the past few weeks, Egypt having been hit by a strange draught. The Pharaoh was getting worried that the end would be near for some of his people, and he was ready to take his own life, if need be, to show the gods that he had faith in them. The plans for his tomb were already underway, and they were building it now in the event that the great Pharaoh would sacrifice his own ka for the lives of the people, for rain.  
  
"Do you want to ask me about the rain or the process of your father's tomb, Prince? Please decide on one," Seth asked, annoyed. He rolled two ocean- smoothed rocks that the two of them have found around their "playground" in his palm.  
  
"The tomb, then," Yami muttered, stuffing his cheek into one hand. "Ra knows it won't rain anytime soon." Seth sighed and rolled the stones a bit more, his left hand shifting one herb and then he tossed the two stones on the sheep hide. "Have faith in the gods, Prince, it'll all work out," Seth comforted. He then leaned down and shifted a few more stones before he drew back with an audible gasp. Yami's eyes shot up from the sheep hide to Seth's widened eyes, just as shocked as Seth was, not because he saw what Seth saw, but because of the doubts that now swarmed inside his mind.  
  
"What? What is it? What happened?" Yami demanded. His hands disturbed the stones as he reached out to remove Seth's hands from the pale face.  
  
"Something terrible is going to happen at the tomb's construction site." Seth whispered, shaking from horror. "People are going to die." Yami cocked his head and sat back, sighing loudly. Seth must have done something wrong, he concluded. To see such a horrible thing on such a grand scale was impossible for a novice like him, for these things are done in levels of severity in the context of the future. The more advanced the sorcerer, the easier it is to see disastrous events for then these sorcerers were expected to predict and forewarn the rulers of war or things such as these. Amateurs could probably only see what's for dinner, at most. Yami decided that Seth must have been acting and faking it. But that thought was soon ended when a messenger ran through the gates of the palace screaming, and Seth didn't laugh to tell Yami that this was al a hoax. Hearing the messenger's shouts, Yami and Seth both got up and ran down to the Grand Hall where audiences with the Pharaoh were held.  
  
Upon entering, Seth bowed to the Pharaoh and walked behind Yami, even though the two of them had been walking at the same pace in the hallway. Ptolemy shot the boy an ugly glance and waved his long, bony hand under his tall nose (which seemed to have only gotten taller over the past two years). Seth kept his head low, his eyes on the floor, trying to find a smudge that he would find interesting enough to not jerk his head up and talk during the emergency audience. The last time he did, Ptolemy had convinced the Pharaoh that Seth was acting completely out of line and forbade him to speak for a whole two weeks, beating him if he made even the smallest sound with his lips. Now, Seth stood behind Yami and listened with intent ears as the blanched messenger was granted to speak.  
  
"T-the columns at the gate of the tomb collapsed, Your Highness," the messenger stammered, "T-there are about t-twenty w-workers trapped behind the rocks and sand that came along with the top of the gate." At this news, the Pharaoh shot up immediately from his chair and stared at the messenger, horrified.  
  
"Twenty?" the Pharaoh whispered in disbelief. Yami made a small gasp and then glanced behind at Seth, who whimpered slightly. Ptolemy raised an eyebrow at their movements. "How could this happen?" the Pharaoh murmured, collapsing into his throne, rubbing his temples. He waved the messenger away, ordering the man to get as many able-bodied people as possible to start removing the rubble to save the men. All construction work on the tomb will have to cease for now.  
  
Before he could stop himself, Yami burst out with the words: "Seth already knew." Three pairs of eyes immediately shot glances upon Yami's form; Ptolemy's, the Pharaoh's, and Seth's.  
  
"How?" Ptolemy demanded, approaching Yami and Seth dangerously. His small, rat-like eyes glared down at Seth and Yami could swear he felt the hot breath from Ptolemy's huge nose blowing onto him. Both boys cringed and Yami mentally slapped himself for having been so direct. If the two of them didn't come out with a good excuse as to how Seth knew, then they would both be punished. Yami would probably be punished quite harshly for sneaking scrolls to him, but god knows what Ptolemy would do to Seth. "Well?" Ptolemy pressed, still waiting for an answer.  
  
Whether it was going insane from fear or just plain annoyance at Ptolemy, Seth never knew what brought him to stand out and state what he did. Perhaps it was the blood of the Belgae flowing inside him that ordered him to not be pushed down like this, or something of the sort. He walked past Yami and looked at Ptolemy square in the eye and then at the Pharaoh. "It was really obvious," Seth stated. "May I have the plans to the tomb, please?" At first Ptolemy looked as though he were going to protest, but his jaws clamped shut with an audible "snap" when the Pharaoh waved for Shimon to bring Seth the scroll. Once the scroll was set in the soft, delicate little hands, Seth opened it up and pointed at the drawing of the tomb's gate. The blueprint that Ptolemy had designed despite the fact that Shimon had designed tombs for the royal family for the past two generations.  
  
"See, here's your problem," Seth pointed out, his finger on the scroll. The Pharaoh stood up from his throne and looked over the boy's shoulder. "The radius of the top and bottom of the columns that were supposed to hold the gate up weren't wide enough to support all the weight of the top of the gate, and therefore collapsed. If you had made four of the same size instead of two or doubled the radius, then this could have been avoided." With that, Seth pulled out a small piece of charcoal he had in a pouch on his belt and scribbled down calculations. "This should work." The Pharaoh stared at the boy in fascination and ruffled the mahogany hair, smiling. Ptolemy looked close to having an aneurysm.  
  
"I see, so it was actually the blueprint that had a problem, Ptolemy," the Pharaoh said, his tone dangerously thin as he gave Ptolemy a warning look. "I suppose it was just too much for you alone." Ptolemy immediately got down on his knees, the golden bangles on his wrists clanking onto the ground as his palms made contact with the stone floors. "Forgive me, Your Highness!" he begged, his eyes squeezed shut in fear of the fact that if he opened them, he just might see the form of his undertaker. The Pharaoh sighed at his brother's exhibition of fear and strode over to Ptolemy, motioning for him to stand. The man did, but he still didn't dare to look at the Pharaoh in the eye. "Since it's too much work for you and your son is probably in no condition to help you.I suggest that you take Seth as your apprentice," the Pharaoh suggested. "He would be a great help to you. I hope that these mistakes don't happen again," he finished with a cautionary tone, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Ptolemy nodded rapidly, looking at Seth with eyes that were full of pure hatred, Seth having been the source of such humiliation on his part. Seth took a small step back, watching Ptolemy as the lanky priest regained his composure and bowed deeply to the Pharaoh.  
  
"It would be my honor to have such a brilliant apprentice, Pharaoh," Ptolemy murmured humbly, but his words were dripping with deception. Yami sneered at him, feeling triumphant thanks to Seth, and pulled his friend away, back to Ishisu's room.  
  
***  
  
That night, as Seth was getting ready for bed, he heard a strange rustling sound outside his new room. His room was a modest one that was in the scribe's quarters, where the scribes as well as their apprentices stayed. Shimon, however, didn't stay here with the others, being the Royal Scribe he was. No one who was of such high stature had to stay in these communal quarters, but Seth would rather stay here. He saw no point in ostracizing himself from everyone else, and rather liked the family feel the scribe's dorms gave him. He had just moved in today after being appointed apprentice to Ptolemy. The man had surprisingly not yelled at him or given him any difficulty on the first day of their work together. Seth hoped that Ptolemy was just treating him as an apprentice; the lines between personal business and official business should be clear enough to Ptolemy. Sighing, Seth stuffed his scrolls into his new shelves in this small room, ignoring the rustling outside. Since he was a new addition to the community, or maybe it was because he looked so foreign, his room was a bit isolated from others, in the far end of the large dorm. But everyone was nice enough to him, it seemed. He figured that it was probably nothing more than a small animal outside his window.  
  
After he finally finished tidying up his room, Seth stood back, looking at his new room and smiled in satisfaction. He finally managed to get himself here, out of the servant's quarters, and into the scribe's. It was a long two years since Ptolemy had been so influencing on the Pharaoh, causing his education to be so greatly hindered. But now he was going to be able to learn lots of things, just like all the other privileged scribes. Smiling to himself again, he tread over to the bed that was spread out for him on the floor, getting ready for a good night's rest to prepare for a big day tomorrow.  
  
Suddenly, the rustling outside got louder and closer, and something burst into his room, shoving Seth's frail form to the bed, face down. His assailant was quick and pressed Seth's face to the hay-filled mattress, muffling the cries for help that the boy made. Caught off guard, Seth tried to fend off his attacker, his hand going to the dagger on his belt only to have his wrist captured and held in a death grip with his other wrist over the small of his back. Frightened, Seth squirmed, this situation not at all unlike the time when he was captured by the Phoenician slave traders who found him hiding in the corner of his burning house, his family members long since killed around him. His attack growled and Seth heard what was unmistakably the sound of a dagger being unsheathed, which only made the boy struggle more. The dagger that was drawn was shoved next to Seth's neck, barely missing the boy's soft skin. But due to his late reaction to the acknowledgement of the dagger's presence next to his neck, Seth's struggling only brought his skin against the edge of the dagger, causing the sharpness to cut slightly into the skin. Gasping in pain, Seth understood the consequences if he were to continue writhing and he stopped, his chest heaving against the mattress of his bed, his breath smothered under the attacker's body.  
  
"You little demon," he heard the voice growl. Seth's eyes flew open at the sound of the voice and he turned his head abruptly, the dagger cutting mercilessly into his neck as he did this, but he saw the face of his assailant. It was Ptolemy. The High Priest, seeing that his face was no longer a mystery to his prey, cursed and shoved Seth's head back down against the bed, his fingers gripping harshly at Seth's soft, brown hair, pressing the boy against the bed as he straddled the lithe form. "So you want to embarrass me, don't you? Well, I'll make your life as a scribe so miserable you'll wish you never came to Egypt, that you could have stayed in your demonic Hell with your kind." He then pulled at Seth's wrists with such brute force Seth heard one of his arms pop, dislocated. His one shoulder went slack as that arm became useless now and could no longer struggle, not that it did him any good anyway.  
  
"Where are your wings, you little demon?" he heard the crazed man huff. The hand that held his head down went to the back collar of Seth's tunic and tore downwards, exposing a flawless, creamy white back. "Where are they? I'll make them come out." The same hand reached over to Seth's belt, and for a moment Seth's stomach tightened at the thought that the man was going to fondle and violate him, something that he had seen the Phoenicians do to some of the boys in his village when it was raided. He was kept a virgin because they had decided that he could sell for a high price in Egypt. But instead, the hand grabbed the dagger on Seth's belt, unsheathing it.  
  
"Where are they?! You can't hide them forever!"  
  
"I don't know what you're." Seth had finally mustered up enough courage to protest, but that only agitated Ptolemy more. White heat shot through his eyes as time seemed to stop and he no longer heard his own gasping nor the High Priest's voice. All he heard was a small squishing sound that was produced as the point of the dagger dug into his skin in the area just around his shoulder blade. Pain electrocuted through his body as he felt the coldness of the dagger along with the heat of his own skin and flesh being opened on his back, the dagger dragging down his skin. Ptolemy made sure that it hurt, being deliberately slow in his method and moving the dagger so that it took out just a small strip of flesh and skin, drawing a thin crevice into the delicate skin. Tears of pain rolled down from Seth's blue eyes as he gasped for air, his breath caught in his throat from the agony. Blood oozed out from his wound, squeezing from the layer of skin that Ptolemy cruelly lifted by shoving his fingers underneath and pulling it up, as though check to see if there were demonic wings under that layer of skin and flesh. To his insanity's disappointment, there was not a wing on this side. He then went and repeated the process on the right side of Seth's back, drawing another line identical to the first sadistically down the already bloodied skin. Finally, Seth screamed, the pain too much to bear as the blood of the new wound flowed onto the first one, causing it to burn, and he could have sworn he heard his skin sear as though someone were branding him, which wasn't that far from the truth. He was going to be scarred for life from these cuts, he was sure of it.  
  
"Don't scream, you little demon!" Ptolemy ordered, pulling the dagger out after having stopped dragging it at the point just above the small of Seth's back. His hand reached out and he knocked Seth's head enough so that the boy would shut up, but not enough to knock him out, unfortunately. Whimpering, Seth settled his face back onto the mattress and sobbed, shaking from fear. He felt the wispy hair of Ptolemy's wig brush against the back of his neck and he jolted, the contact of the man sending pure terror down his spine. Hot breaths brushed against Seth's attentive ear as Ptolemy spoke. "Don't you dare tell anyone of this.or else I'll make sure that next time the snake does kill your precious little Prince. Perhaps a bag full of scarabs in his bed would do the trick."  
  
"Please don't do it!" Seth begged, his neck digging against the blade next to him. The pain there didn't bother him so much now, and his biggest fear was toward the threat.  
  
"Then learn to stay out of my way!" Ptolemy spat, slapping the boy before standing up to study his handiwork, throwing down Seth's dagger and retrieving his own in the process. "There, blemished and not even fit for a royal bed whore when I'm done with kicking you out as a scribe. You can't be the Prince's 'royal friend' for forever. I'll make sure you get yours, you little demon." Spitting, he left the room in a huff, leaving Seth to bleed on the bed.  
  
Once he made sure Ptolemy's footsteps had fully disappeared, Seth supported himself up by one arm, the other one dangling uselessly at his side. His blood flowed freely on his back, and just getting up sent shocks of pain through his muscles, but he daren't scream in fear that it would rouse up a commotion which would, without a doubt, end up in him having to explain what happened. He wanted to avoid the explaining part at all costs, now that he knew that it was Ptolemy that set the snake on Yami those two years ago. He murmured a small healing spell under his breath and sighed as he felt the wounds close a bit, but still leaving a small slit that would have to clot on its own. He groaned and pressed his dislocated shoulder against the wall and pressed until he heard a crack that signified the arm going back into the right slot. Sighing, he sat back, tears still running down from the ordeal, fear pulsing through his mind.  
  
"Why?" he whispered, laying down on his side, curling up into a ball. He was careful no to put too much weight onto the wound as he sobbed into his arms. "Why?" He continued to ask himself this question as he cried himself to sleep.  
  
Little did he know, a creature watched him from the shadows of his room, its gold eyes glimmering as it smiled. He watched the blood glisten on Seth's back from the moonlight, like wine spilled over cream. Grinning, he licked his lips and watched the boy fall into a deep, dreamless slumber.  
  
Such beautiful blood.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Sorry that this chapter took so long to be put up. I was really caught up in updating "Final Distance," and also trying to not sleep so much when I have so much to do.  
  
Sorry that this had to happen to Seth, but it's to build up on what will happen later on in the story. Who would like to guess at who was watching Seth? 


	5. Pact

I'm not sure if I said this, but chapter three of this fic has been edited with an extension that might be quite important (well, actually, it is important). So if you haven't read it yet, I suggest that you do because it includes quite an important plot device.  
  
Thank you all once again for your generous reviews! They are what keep me up until two in the morning typing these things up.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, unfortunately for myself but fortunately for the parents and non-fangirls, because otherwise Yami and Seto would be dueling in a?completely different sense in that show. This chapter contains graphic violence, blood, and gruesome scenes of suicide. Proceed with caution.  
  
Chapter 5-Pact  
  
One blue eye peeped open as sun shone into the small room through a window that was dug into the wall. Soon, the twin of that beautiful blue eye opened as well, and the owner allowed them to blink, focusing them. Seth sat up on his bed, his body bucking slightly from the pain that tore through his back when he made a motion, the wounds threatening to reopen. Hissing, Seth looked around and realized that his bed was covered in dried blood, and his tunic was in shreds, hanging only by some threads and on his belt. Panic went through him as he wondered if people would come in here and start questioning him about what happened that got this whole mess here in the first place, and he quickly yanked off the sheets off his bed. He tore off the rest of his tunic, pulled on another one, and headed for the kiln that the artisans kept burning for their pottery.  
  
Just as he shoved his stained sheets into the kiln, Yami walked up to him. "Seth!" he shouted, running up to his friend. "What are you doing?" Taking a step back, Seth turned and looked at Yami, trying as hard as he could to keep his expression passive and cheerful, like the way he usually was in front of Yami. He shook his head as an answer and averted the question all by itself. "Nothing much," he said, "What are you doing here?" A sheepish snicker escaped Yami's lips and he kicked the sand beneath his feet, sweeping them into small clouds. "I had to get a new urn to replace the one that I broke last week from hiding in," Yami explained, his big toe digging into the sand as he drew swirls into the sand with his foot. Seth smiled lightly, knowing how Yami had a habit of hiding from Shimon for classes he didn't like such as arithmetic, and his favorite hiding spots were in the huge vases or urns that littered just about every corner of the palace. Those urns, however, were like Hell for Seth, for he had attempted to hide himself in them once, or rather, Yami had lifted and stuffed him into one, and he was quite stuck. It wasn't until Yami finally realized that Seth's kicking and screaming wasn't a joke that he went and got Ishisu to help him out. At the sound of urns now, Seth just seemed to cringe and wrinkle his nose, and that's exactly the face that he was giving Yami at the moment.  
  
The prince laughed and tugged at Seth's hand, not knowing that he was tugging at the inflicted arm that had been dislocated by his own uncle the night before. "Hey, I've got something I want to show you!" he shouted with excitement. Seth bit back a whimper from the pain that shot up his arm to the shoulder at even the slightest of tugs and forced a smile to his paling lips. "What is it?" he asked, letting his hand slip out of Yami's. The hand that had been holding his own reached into the pouch tied around the young prince's belt and he pulled out a sheet of papyrus that had an elegant drawing etched onto it. Holding it out, Yami presented the card to Seth, who studied the picture on the card. The drawing was of a creature not very much unlike a human, but clad from head to toe in purple armor. The creature wielded a mage's staff, and his eyes sparkled with such a light it made him seem almost life-like. Seth breathed in awe at the splendor of the card and glanced up at Yami. "What is he?" he asked, forgetting the pain that had coursed through his body a few moments ago.  
  
"He's the Dark Magician!" Yami announced proudly. "Father bestowed him onto me last night saying that I've already progressed enough to be able to succeed his place in the Shadow Games. I went into the Shadow Realm just last night for the very first time." A look of pride mixed with a hint of smugness crossed the prince's youthful features and he grinned triumphantly. Yet a tinge of sadness glowed behind his red eyes, for he knew what this succession was foreshadowing. For him to succeed his father's place in the Shadow Games, it would mean that his father's time was almost up. The Nile wasn't flooding, and the people were calling upon the Pharaoh to do something about it, and the something was for the Pharaoh to sacrifice his own life for the sake of the kingdom. It was believed that the ka of the Pharaoh would placate the gods more than any animal's flesh and blood. Noticing the hint of wistfulness in Yami's expression, Seth smiled sadly and handed the card back to him, but he still didn't understand too well.  
  
"What is the Shadow Realm?" he asked, looking embarrassed at his own ignorance.  
  
"It's another realm." Yami tried explaining, "That's surrounded in shadows.and basically monsters and stuff thrive in there." It was difficult to explain the Shadow Realm, really. Attempting to describe the Shadow Realm to a person who's never been there was almost like trying to allow a deaf man to understand the beauties of a symphony. If only Yami could take Seth to the Shadow Realm to show him around.but that was simply out of the question. As much as Seth's magical affinity exceeded that of most sorcerers in training at the palace, he still had absolutely no training in the magic of the Shadow Games. To bring a normal mortal into Shadow Realm without any magical support of its kind was like throwing a just-born infant into the crocodile-infested waters of the west end of the Nile-and that was if one was lucky. Just as Yami was shaking that prospect from his head, Seth spoke up. "Can I go there?" he asked, excitement lighting his blue eyes. Taken back, Yami's mouth fell agape and he stared at Seth. "Out of the question!" he shouted to Seth, waving his hands in front of Seth's face. "You'll be killed in an instant! You need to have magical training in the Shadow Games before you can even step into that place!" He turned his head away from Seth, knowing that the boy would always give him a "look" if he were to ask for something. The "look" wasn't puppy eyes, far from it, it was more like some sort of look that said "Are you sure you don't want to do that for me?" repeatedly. But Yami had adverted his eyes all too late and found himself being stared down by that look until he finally caved in.  
  
"All right, fine!" Yami shouted, throwing his arms into the air. "I'll take you there, but only in my room, because Ptolemy seems to be onto us. Also, if I see that you are not suited for that place, I'm going take us right back, understood?" Beaming, Seth smiled triumphantly and nodded, his excitement apparent on his face. He walked past Yami quickly and headed for the palace, unable to contain his anticipation to go into this so- called "Shadow Realm." Yami sighed and followed him, eventually catching up and slapping Seth on the back, smiling. "Never seen you this excited since-" his words stopped mid-sentence as Seth's knees buckled beneath the frail form and the pale boy knelt onto the ground, hands clutched at shaking shoulders. Yami lifted his hand from the trembling back and stared at the specks of red that littered the palm of his hand and the beige tunic that Seth wore.  
  
"Seth, what happened?!" he shouted, crouching down next to his friend.  
  
"Nothing!" Seth shouted nervously, then, ashamed at his outburst, bit his lip. "Nothing." he repeated, rubbing his own back, feeling the faintly reopened wound with the tips of his fingers.  
  
"What do you mean, 'nothing?'" Yami exclaimed, reaching his hand out to the wound but retracting his hand when he saw Seth cowering from his touch. "You're bleeding! And you've got a cut on your neck, too!"  
  
"It's nothing, really!" Seth said, urging his legs to allow him to stand up in what seemed to be a really energetic way. He shot himself up from the ground and gave a bit of a bounce to his stance. "I just fell while moving to the scribe's quarters last night!" He feigned a smile and dusted himself off, then pulled Yami up and dusted him off as well.  
  
"But."  
  
"Come on, I really want to see the Shadow Realm!" he protested, ending the conversation. A soft hand reached out and gripped Yami's as he urged the Prince to go inside the palace, into the privacy of his royal chambers.  
  
Once the two of them were inside the privacy of Yami's luxurious room, the Prince quickly closed the heavy gilded doors behind him, locking and bolting them three times. Seth had only been in this room two or three times before the authorities (adults) had forbade him to come in, saying that a slave, no matter how close to the Prince, had to know his place. For a slave, the room of the Prince was off-limits, sometimes even when he was invited. The room was indeed one fitted for a prince; instead of a dusty mud floor, the ground was covered in the finest of marble and decorated with exotic animal skins as to not chill Yami's feet in the morning. The walls were decorated with lapis and gold, each stone and precious metal molded and pounded meticulously into the walls to create a mosaic of the gods that will watch over Yami for the rest of his life. The bed was a luxuriously humongous bed, a bit too gratuitous for a child his age. The divan had white silken curtains adorning it, spilling from the banisters that hung overhead, creating the canopy. Satin pale bluish- lavender sheets covered the down mattresses and the finest cushiony pillows piled into a modest mountain at the head of the bed. At the foot of the bed was a chaise that was big enough for the two boys to sit on, and Seth seated himself there as he waited for Yami to perform his magic.  
  
"Now, if I start to see you gasping for breath, whether it's from excitement or whatever, I'm taking us back, okay?" Yami warned. Seth nodded his head mutely, watching the Prince spread his arms out at his sides, fingers outstretched. Muttering a spell under his breath, a band of golden light spread around Yami's feet and it appeared that he was suddenly sucked into a wind tunnel, his tunic and cape billowing upwards as though a small breeze carried it. Suddenly, Seth felt the same breeze wash over him from under his feet, and he gasped when the morning sun disappeared along with the room, and a kaleidoscope of maroon, purple, red, and black swirled around him in an enveloping sensation. The air was thick and heavy, but Seth felt safe suddenly, and he stood up from his seat, peering around the "Shadow Realm." Yami took a moment to regain his composure; traveling into the Shadow Realm always made him a bit tipsy. He smiled at how successfully he had managed to carry both Seth and himself into the realm and approached Seth.  
  
"How is it?" he asked, his keen eyes watching Seth to make sure the other boy wasn't being crushed by the intense magic field and the suffocating density of the air. To say the truth, Yami himself had a hard time staying in the Shadow Realm for too long; but that was understandable since he had just started his training recently.  
  
"It feels like home," Seth whispered, his arms spread out about him.  
  
"Home?" Yami repeated the last word as a question, perplexed. "You mean you lived in the Shadow Realm before?" Seth smiled and turned to face Yami, his eyes shimmering from nostalgia as well as a hint of homesickness. "Not exactly," he explained, "Back in my homeland, my people lived by a structure we call the Stonehenge, which is basically large stones arranged in such a way that it must have opened some sort of gate to a world like this and affected our village.which is probably why we were persecuted." He lowered his head as he added the last note. His hands wrung at his tunic as he thought about it; it seemed that his people were able to communicate with the creatures of this sort of realm, then why was it that they were powerless against those horrible hunters? As he thought about it, old hatred burned inside him like an old wound that was just pried open, and he felt his back burning. Gasping, he leaned his head against Yami's shoulder, his one hand gripping Yami's arm.  
  
"Seth?" Yami shouted, concerned. "What's wrong?" Seth seemed to be inflicted with pain, and Yami was just considering the option of taking them back to the human realm when light burst from Seth's back. Fingers of excruciating pain pried and ripped at the wounds on Seth's back as a pale white light burst from them as well as from the cut on his throat. Staggering back, Seth let out a scream not from pain but very much similar to a newborn infant's holler for air upon reaching the world. He fell to his knees and Yami ran to his side, stopping when he saw the sight before him.  
  
Three tiny dragons, seemingly born from the light of those wounds, crowded around Seth's form. One that was larger than the other two snarled at Yami, protective of Seth. Another one, slightly smaller in size but delicate like the boy who summoned it, perched on Seth's shoulder where it sprung from, nuzzled the boy's cheek comfortingly despite the fact that it had tusks that would most likely hurt Seth. The third and smallest one squeaked at Seth, crouching by Seth's hand. All three of them were covered in metallic white scales and their eyes were the same color as their summoner's-a soul-tearing blue. Seth huffed for breath, not yet noticing the dragons, and he wondered what was up with the sudden sound of snarling and squeaking, plus the strangely comforting yet somewhat painful nuzzling at his cheek. Lifting his head, Seth caught the look of shock and awe drawn on Yami's face and he furrowed his brows. "What's wrong, Yami?" he asked.  
  
One dark finger lifted and pointed at Seth's shoulders and his hand. Seth's eyes followed the general direction of Yami's protruding finger and saw the creatures on his shoulders and by his hand. Letting out a surprised yelp, Seth jumped up, barely knocking the smallest dragon over with his flailing hand and sending the other two on his shoulders into flight. "W-what are they?" Seth exclaimed, retreating to Yami's side and noting that those three dragons followed him.  
  
"D-dragons," Yami stammered. But these weren't like any dragons he'd ever seen before in the scrolls, plus these dragons were giving off the unmistakable elemental aura of light, which he had never felt from any dragons before. The creatures were beautiful, yes, but just as perplexing in the same steed.  
  
"I know they're dragons," Seth whispered, looking at the largest one that was flying in front of his face, looking for the entire world like it was reprimanding him. "But why are they following me?"  
  
"Maybe it's because you're a foreigner in this realm," Yami answered nervously. "I say we go back." Without even waiting for Seth's agreement, Yami muttered the returning spell under his breath and sighed in relief when he felt the morning sun against his skin. Upon opening his eyes, however, he let out a huge holler when he saw that the dragons had followed them back and were perched on Seth's shoulders once again, the smallest one on top of the brown head. The small one, offended, squeaked at Yami.  
  
The sound of Yami's scream must have carried through the hallways of the palace, for the Pharaoh came pounding on the door of the Prince's room. After several pounds, the voice of Ptolemy was heard and a spark of light came in between the doors through the small crack, breaking the locks open and the two adults stormed in. The Pharaoh's face was drawn with concern for his son and Ptolemy looked like he was expecting a gruesome murder scene.  
  
"Yami, what ha-WHAT IS THAT?" the Pharaoh started to ask if his son was hurt, but stopped when he saw the three white dragons on Seth.  
  
"What is this slave doing in the royal chambers?!" was Ptolemy's question. The Pharaoh rolled his eyes and lifted his hand, silently ordering the High Priest to shut his mouth. He then approached Yami and looked down at his young son. "Yami," he said. Vermillion eyes would not look at the Pharaoh's face and the Pharaoh reached a large hand out and turned Yami's face around. "Look at me," he said, voice stern. "Did you take Seth to the Shadow Realm?"  
  
"It's not Yami's fault, Your Highness," Seth interrupted, "It was-" His mouth shut in a snap when he saw the Pharaoh turn around and give him a "look." It wasn't one that was malicious in any way, but it was the type that told him to be quiet when he is questioning his son. Yami nodded mutely, his foot swirling on the marble floors of his room as he wished that his chambers had an urn for him to hide in. The Pharaoh nodded and stood up, walking over to Seth and pinched the boy's one cheek, letting out a sound laugh. Both boys as well as Ptolemy stared at the ruler in surprise as the Pharaoh lifted Seth up, spun him in a half circle before setting him down next to Yami.  
  
"I always knew you had potential!" the Pharaoh exclaimed, hardly able to contain his exhilaration. "I had Shimon research about your clan for me, and it seems that when their clan members reach a certain age, the ka of their deceased ancestors or relatives will form into a creature suitable for the child to summon." The Pharaoh shook his head, looking at the three tiny dragons appraisingly. The largest of the three dragons raised its head proudly as the other two seemed to smile, the smallest one squeaking again. Ptolemy's face was torn between an expression of disgust and absolute horror. "I never thought that you would have the ability to do that," the Pharaoh continued, "Seeing as how you had absolutely no training in magic like this in any way whatsoever." With the last sentence, he turned his head slightly and gave Ptolemy a dirty look that sent the High Priest backing away. Yami nudged Seth's shoulder and smiled, bringing Seth out of his state of shock.  
  
Seth started, the contact of Yami's shoulder on his arm pulling him out of his stupor. He looked at the three dragons around him, trying to make the information about his clan that not even he knew click inside his mind. "So." he pointed at the largest dragon, "Father?" When the dragon nodded approvingly, Seth then gestured to the delicate one that was second in size. "Mother?" The female dragon nodded as well, making a cooing sound that sent warmth through Seth's heart when he stopped at the smallest one. "And.Mokuba.?" The tiny dragon that was in the embodiment of Seth's brother squeaked in enthusiasm. A soft gasp escaped Seth's lips and he looked up at the Pharaoh, who smiled and crouched down in front of Seth, his eyes becoming serious when he looked into Seth's blue eyes.  
  
"Seth," the Pharaoh stated, "How would you like to be Yami's High Priest when you become of age? You can start training whenever you'd like, and you can go on the pilgrimage whenever you'd like. When you return, the place will be yours to fill. It's a good thing that you're already under Ptolemy's apprenticeship, you can learn from him." Seth took a step back and nearly crashed into the chaise at the end of Yami's bed. As he did so, he caught the look on Ptolemy's face and he blanched. "N-no," Seth stammered, his hand clutching his tunic, "I can't, Your Highness. I'm not fit for the job!"  
  
Ptolemy stepped up next to the Pharaoh, looking down at his brother. "Exactly, Sire," the sneering voice protested. "A slave like him cannot possibly become powerful enough or responsible enough to become High Priest! Besides, I thought we had agreed that my son Akhenaton would be the one filling the place as High Priest when the Prince succeeds you!" The Pharaoh shot up from his crouching position and glared at Ptolemy square in the face, almost snarling in anger that he had kept swallowed for the past two years. "Ptolemy," he ground out, "For the past two years I've made some quite poor decisions thanks to your constant screeching. For your information, if you haven't noticed it yet yourself, your son Akhenaton has been training for almost three or four years in the magic of the Shadow Games, and he can't even summon a Kuriboh!" He huffed, snorting a breath of anger in Ptolemy's face before whirling around on his heels to head out of Yami's room. "Come now," he ordered Ptolemy, "We have more important matters to attend to. Besides, Ptolemy, nepotism alone cannot rule a country."  
  
"Y-yes sir," Ptolemy agreed half-heartedly as he followed the Pharaoh out of the doors, walking so quickly out he doors he did not have a chance to give Seth a dirty look. As soon as they left, Yami grabbed Seth's shoulders and gave out a squeal of excitement.  
  
"You're going to be my High Priest!" he shouted. "That would be so wonderful! I was hoping that I didn't have to have Akhenaton as my High Priest. Like my father said, he's completely incompetent to do the job." He beamed at Seth as the paler boy's lower lip trembled with anxiety at what Ptolemy might do to him in the night, but Yami was all too excited to notice the look of rear on his friend's face, and the two of them were both too preoccupied with their thoughts to have noticed that the smallest of the three dragons had slipped out of the room.  
  
Ptolemy, having been given the afternoon off to prepare lessons for his former-scribe now magical apprentice, was now pacing around his room, gnawing at his thumb. His bodyguard Nehkt stood at the edge of his door, watching as his master paced around in anger. "What is the matter, Sire?" Nehkt asked, his brows furrowing.  
  
"That little demon is going to become High Priest, you fool!" Ptolemy screeched, throwing his arms up into the air. "Do you know what that means?! It would mean that both you and my son would be out of jobs when that abnormal brat prince becomes Pharaoh!" Nehkt took a step back in surprise and bowed in apology for his ignorance, then an idea sparked into his head. "Why don't I go and murder him tonight?" he suggested, "No one would really notice that he's dead until the next morning, and you will have a perfectly good alibi for you are going to be attending a rain- inducing ritual." Ptolemy gave this a thought; he had once just wanted the boy out of his way so that he wouldn't bother him, but now that he's crossed the line of just how bothersome he could be, it would be very troublesome with him alive. Nodding in agreement, he waved his hand in acceptance. "Very well," Ptolemy said approvingly. "Go into his chambers tonight when I give you the signal at the ritual and kill him. Make sure you make it painful for him, but not so loud that it will draw attention." Just as Nehkt bowed to that mission, Ptolemy's eye caught a flicker of silver-white by his doorway and he saw that it was the smallest dragon that belonged to the "boy-demon." Snarling, he gestured towards it. "Capture it! If it flies back to its master and tells of this, both our heads will be rolling at the execution grounds!" he shouted. Nehkt immediately sprang to his feet and grabbed at the small dragon that was just about to take flight and escape, capturing it in his large hands. The dragon snarled and bit into Nehkt's hand, sending a scream frothing out from the large, muscular bodyguard's mouth as he dropped the small creature onto the ground. Dazed, the tiny dragon gave out a small whimper as it tried to escape, only to have its tail stepped on by Ptolemy's unmerciful foot.  
  
"You fool! Can't even catch a dragon," Ptolemy upbraided. He then turned his attention towards the tiny dragon that squirmed under his foot. Muttering a sleeping spell under his breath, Ptolemy shot the spell at the dragon and watched until the large blue eyes fell closed and then bent down to pick up the slumbering creature.  
  
"Do with this as a warning sign to the boy," Ptolemy said, malice dripping from his voice. "Make sure he sees it and revels in the fear that it's supposed to send him." Nehkt bowed and took the small creature in his uninflected hand and walked out of the High Priest's royal chambers.  
  
***  
  
"Mokuba?" Seth called, lifting the curtains to his room and peering inside. He had been inside Yami's room the whole day, talking to the Prince about what they were going to do when one of them becomes Pharaoh and the other becomes High Priest. His anxiety had dissipated during the chatting, but then he had also neglected to notice that the dragon embodiment of his brother was gone. After the Prince's servants came in and informed Seth it was suppertime at the scribe's quarters, Seth returned here, searching for his third dragon all along the way. His mother and father had returned into his body during his chat with Yami, seeing that there was really no point in being a fifth wheel in their conversation. At first Seth had thought that Mokuba had done the same, but when he couldn't feel the presence of his brother's ka inside his body, he got a bit worried. His heart sank when he saw that the dragon was not inside his room, but then his eyes caught something that wasn't there before.  
  
Set on Seth's table inside his room was a small clay pot that was perched on a portable coal hearth that was made to match the clay pot. The smell of something cooking permeated the room as steam bubbled from the clay pot, the coals burning brightly underneath it inside the hearth, keeping the food inside warm. Seth furrowed his brows; dinner wasn't served inside individual rooms, scribes in this housing quarter had to go to a public cafeteria to eat their meals. Curious, Seth approached the pot, his heart thumping in anticipation that felt to him like a nauseating feeling as his hand reached out for the lid of the pot. Upon opening it, Seth's eyes shot wide open and he shut the lid to the pot just as quickly when he saw the sight in it, knocking the pot over onto the mud ground where it spilled over in a soup of what used to be one of his precious dragons. The coals, wetted from the water of the soup, immediately hissed and distinguished, but were still hot. Seth ignored the heat of the coals and the soup as he grabbed for the remains of the small dragon, pulling them into his lap.  
  
"Mokuba.Mokuba." he sobbed, feeling a wave of nausea pulse through him. His back hunched over and he vomited onto the ground, the smell of the cooked flesh disgusting and retching him. He clutched the dragon to him and felt streams of tears wash his cheeks, running into his mouth to mix with the horrible taste of bile. "Why? Who did this to you?"  
  
"We did," a voice said behind him. "Though it really wouldn't do you much good if you knew that since you're going to die very soon." Nehkt stepped through Seth's bedroom door, looming over the small boy that knelt on the ground, covered in tears and the broth that was cooked from the dragon.  
  
"Why?!" Seth shouted, turning his head upwards to look at the man, his eyes full of hatred. "Why do you do this to me?!"  
  
"Why?" Nehkt asked, his hand making a swooshing sound as it ripped through the air, backhanding Seth across the cheek. The blow alone sent Seth tumbling onto the bed where he had been stabbed just the night before. "I'll tell you why! They say that before you hit a dog you have to first look at their master's stature. Do YOU have stature? You're nothing but a lowly slave that always gets in the way, you little demon!" He approached Seth and straddled the boy at the waist, his knees pressing Seth's wrists down and his hand placing a suffocating grip on the delicate neck, pushing upwards so that the chin was tilted and Seth couldn't scream, only open and close his mouth as he gasped for breath.  
  
"Please.don't.why."Seth begged, his eyes growing hazy. He was at a loss; he had no idea how to summon his dragons, and to say the truth, he didn't want to in fear of what this man might do to them at this stage of the game. He wiggled one hand out and scratched uselessly at Nehkt's hand, straining to keep the man from strangling him.  
  
"Because you're a demon," Nehkt's cold voice answered. It was then that Seth heard the sound of a dagger being drawn from the burly man's belt and he realized that this most likely wasn't going to be like what he had to put up with last night; he was going to be killed. "I expect your blood to be blue, just like your demonic eyes." He raised his dagger, letting it gleam in the light of the moon, flashing in front of Seth's eyes, spelling his doom before he lunged down at Seth.  
  
"NO!!" the boy screamed, using his one free hand to pull his own dagger out and plunge it into Nehkt's throat as the man lunged downward to stab him. The man let out a gurgling sound as blood overflowed from his lips and dribbled down his chin, his hand releasing Seth's throat. Giving out another primal yell of pure hatred, Seth pulled the dagger leftwards with both his hands, sending a deep cut across the man's throat. Nehkt clutched at his throat, his hands covering the wound in a pathetic attempt to close the wound and keep the blood from flowing by just putting his hands there on the wound. His breathing became nothing but wheezing sounds and another gurgle escaped the drowning voice before the large man fell onto the floor at the foot of the bed and Seth sat up, finally realizing what he's done.  
  
"What have I done.?" Seth whispered, staring at the blood that covered his hands, his body, his bed, and his face. His blue eyes seemed to glow under the hot redness, and those eyes traveled to Nehkt's body, where the man was still twitching and kicking on the dirt floor. Hatred bubbled from his heart again and Seth screamed, going over and giving one last stab at the man's heart, and Nehkt let out a final cough of blood, spraying it over Seth's face, and then he died, his eyes rolling upwards in his sockets but not closing. Panting, Seth fell back onto his mattress, legs sprawled over the blood, the thick blood of his victim covering him, drying in thick layers. His eyes narrowed as his face scrunched in anger and he shouted at Nehkt's dead body. "Why do you do this to me!?" he screamed, dropping his dagger. "WHY?" After his outburst, the gravity of his murder finally settled in along with the second death of his brother, and he hunched over, sobbing.  
  
"Why do you do this to me?" he whispered. Then, he remembered a law that he had read and recited before; the law of the land as well as humans as a whole: "For one life you take, you must give your own." His lips trembled as he recalled that doctrine, and his eyes trailed to his bloodied dagger, and he picked it up. "I'm sorry, Yami," he whispered, poising the dagger's blade over his wrist, "I won't be able to be your High Priest." With that, he drew a sharp line across his pale skin, watching in awe as red dotted the line he drew, and then his blood flowed out from the cut, bubbling and seeping out from the cut he made.  
  
"I expect your blood to be blue.just like your demonic eyes."  
  
"My blood is red," Seth whispered, his throat drying from the panic inside his stomach as he watched his life flow from his wrist. "It's red.just like yours." A small pink tongue slipped out from those pale lips and trailed up the arm to the wound, where it poked at the puckering wound, tasting the blood. "And it's salty.just like yours.why do you do this to me.?" He drew back and then lied down onto his stained bed, lapping at his blood, trying to stop it from flowing; it was making him feel sick. "Why.?" He whispered that question for one last time before his mind slipped into a thick darkness.  
  
The next thing Seth felt wasn't what he was expecting. He had expected to feel hands of the undertaker grab at him, or maybe even Anubis himself dragging him to be judged, but instead he felt a silky hand clutch his own. Long, slender fingers intertwined with his smaller fingers, and Seth fought to look up at who was there. Blue eyes opened to meet with golden orbs and an intoxicating smile. A figure with blurred features floated over him, its forked tail swishing in the air.  
  
"Such beautiful blood." a velvety voice whispered into Seth's ear. But instead of a hot breath that one would usually feel when someone was whispering into his ear, Seth felt chills course through his body from that voice. The smile grew wider and Seth could swear he saw fangs in the mouth of that creature. "All right, the pact is made.what is it that you wish for?"  
  
"Who are you?" Seth whimpered, narrowing his clouded eyes in an attempt to see the creature better.  
  
"I am the one whom you are named after," the creature said, its golden eyes shimmering proudly as though talking to a son. "I am Nyaralathotep, or what your people would call 'Set.'" He leaned down and brushed his lips against Seth's cold cheek, sending shivers through Seth's body as he felt his body get colder from the loss of blood. The God of Chaos and Destruction chuckled at the reaction he wrought from Seth. "Now, what is it that you want?" Set asked again. "Is it revenge? You have used your blood to summon me and now I shall make a pact with you."  
  
"I.I just want.to serve Yami," Seth admitted childishly. But he wasn't going to be able to do that now, he realized. It wasn't going to do Yami any good if he were dead, and even if he didn't do this to himself, the Pharaoh or maybe even Ptolemy was going to execute him for killing Nehkt. Set scoffed lightly and shrugged. "Such a small wish, and yet so selfless," he whispered. "All right, I will grant you that wish.but you must remember.when I fulfill your wish to my liking, I will be taking your ka to serve me in your afterlife." Blinking at the idea, Seth could only nod mutely at the sound that he may be able to stay by Yami's side a bit longer and maybe protect him from Ptolemy, god knows what that man might do to Yami if he were gone! Upon seeing the nod of agreement by Seth, Set laughed brilliantly, his laughter ringing through the room. A single finger with a razor-sharp nail trailed down Set's tongue and drew blood that was as black as the night, the same color as the creature's long hair. The ink colored fluid dripped down the pink flesh onto Seth's wound, and Set leaned down to lap at the remaining blood that continued to empty itself from Seth's lithe body. Seth gasped as he felt the darkness surge into his body with his blood, red mixed with black, staining him and yet empowering him at the same time. Skin rubbed against blood-stained clothing as the creature gripped Seth's hand, pressing it into the mattress as he continued to lick at the wound, allowing his blood to flow into the boy, marking him, stamping this contract as his own. Only when Seth finally screamed from the heat of the dark power did Set pull back, satisfied.  
  
"You will now have my magic," Set whispered. "Your magic will become stronger by tenfold, but you can still die, so you must be weary. I will only keep you alive until your wish is granted." He sat back on the bed and watched Seth as the boy looked at the wound that sealed itself into a scar on his wrist and then at Set, then nodded.  
  
"Go to sleep now, child named after me," Set soothed, his voice reminding Seth of the creature incubus, who stole people's dreams. But he felt so tired he had to comply.  
  
*** Ptolemy shoved his door open angrily as he charged into his chambers. Not only did it not rain even with his incessant prayers to the gods, his slow servant Nehkt was late in coming back and delivering him good news about the "accidental death" of that annoying little boy. He waited around for a full hour after the ritual ended for his bodyguard, but seeing that he wasn't coming, Ptolemy left in a huff and retreated to his chambers, exhausted from his work. As he pulled off his priest's cloak, he noticed a lump on his bed and he growled angrily. Was it another stupid servant who thought that his bed was some public napping unit? Ptolemy stalked over to the lump and ripped the blanket off the bed, ready to shout at whoever intruded into his bed only to drop the blanket and gasp, taking a step back.  
  
On his bed, in all of its gruesome bloody glory, was the body of Nehkt, stabbed and slashed in the throat as well as the heart. Ptolemy stared at his former servant, perplexed at how this body got here. Sure, it might have been the little demon that killed Nehkt, that was not impossible, but to be able to carry the large body back without notice was a task so hard he was sure not even the demon boy could succeed. The High Priest's thoughts, however, were intruded by the shrill scream of one of his servants who just happened to walk in to notify that his bath was drawn.  
  
"By Ra there's a corpse in the High Priest's room!" the servant girl shouted, running into the hallways of the palace. "Murder! Murder!!"  
  
"You idiot, don't scream!" Ptolemy shouted, running after her. She was drawing up such attention that almost everyone in this side of the palace woke up, and guards ran in from the courtyard. They came in just in time to see Ptolemy grab the girl and twist her neck so hard in an attempt to silence her that he killed her. Ptolemy was taken under the guards' custody immediately.  
  
*** "Ptolemy, you have been accused of the murder of your own bodyguard Nehkt as well as the murder of your servant girl, how would you explain it?" the Pharaoh asked, sitting at his throne, watching his brother kneel before him in shackles.  
  
"I keep saying," Ptolemy insisted, "That the demon boy did this! He killed Nehkt!"  
  
"That's a lie!" Yami shouted from his father's side, earning him a glare from the Pharaoh as well Ptolemy.  
  
"Ptolemy," the Pharaoh announced, sighing, "You should know that in our kingdom, the law is that if you murder a person, you must pay for it with your life. We have no evidence that Seth killed Nehkt, but we have witnesses who saw you kill that poor girl, and the body of Nehkt was indeed found inside your room."  
  
"No, Sire!" Ptolemy begged, sensing the outcome that this talk may spell. "Please! I'm innocent! I may have killed that girl, but you wouldn't execute your own brother, will you!? Amenhotep!" He bent down, his forehead touching the floor as he begged for his life.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ptolemy," the Pharaoh said, sighing, "But all evidence points to the verdict that you murdered those two people.take him away." The guards nodded and began to drag Ptolemy away as the man screeched and cursed, his eyes filled with hatred as he shot last glances at the Pharaoh, Yami, and Seth. His son Akhenaton watched as his father was dragged out into the execution grounds and beheaded, screaming as he saw the blade come down. He snarled and walked over to Seth, giving him a glare that was almost as hard as his father's.  
  
"Damn you, you little Belgae demon!" he shouted into Seth's unresponsive face. "I know you killed Nehkt, I know what you're up to! I'll get revenge for my father! You'll see! I'll go on that pilgrimage and become stronger than you!" With that, he turned around and summoned his servants to prepare his luggage for his pilgrimage. Sighing, Yami tugged on Seth's hand and lead them back into the palace, into Ishisu's room.  
  
Seth watched as Yami tugged at his large purple cape, trying to adjust it so that it was comfortable around him. The palace was now a bustle with not only the execution of Ptolemy but also the fact that the days of the Pharaoh were almost due. The Nile still hasn't flooded, and the Pharaoh was now preparing to sacrifice himself, and he was preparing Yami for succession of his throne, starting with giving him the royal purple cape. The Belgae boy had become extremely quiet and unresponsive to certain things a day before the execution of Ptolemy, and Yami took it as just the fact that he was upset from the loss of his third dragon. The two boys sat down on Ishisu's bed, both of them too tired and preoccupied with their thoughts to say anything.  
  
"Do you think it's me, Yami?" Seth asked, looking down at his feet as he pulled some loose threads from his apprentice priest's garb. It essentially looked like a beige dress without a belt or anything, it was a plain little thing, and somewhat uncomfortable since priests in training could no longer dwell in the luxuries of normal life.  
  
Yami looked up at Seth and his eyes widened. "No!" he shouted, "Of course not! Why would I think that? I've got more important things to worry about!"  
  
"Like the rain?" Seth asked, his tone flat.  
  
"Yeah." Yami whispered, his heart falling at the prospect of his kind father sacrificing himself like some goat for the sake of the people. He knew it was the right thing as ruler to do, but the idea of losing his father was still sending waves of nausea through him.  
  
"What would you say if I were to make it rain? Make the Nile flood?" Seth inquired, looking over at Yami, his eyes sparkling for the first time in the past few days. He suddenly stood up and proceeded to walk out the door. Yami got up and chased after him. The sound of skin against stone rang through the thick, hot summer air as the dark-skinned boy chased his friend down the long flight of stairs leading to the gate of the palace.  
  
"What do you mean you'll get the Nile to flood, Seth?" the shorter boy demanded, pulling his long purple cape around him so that he won't trip over them in his pursue of Seth.  
  
"Exactly as I meant it by the words I said," Seth answered, his steps growing faster, daring his pursuer to catch up to him and try to stop him. He wanted to try out his newfound powers on a grander scale; he had been trying it out for the past few days and found that he was able to perform spells faster and with more accuracy, but to do something as drastic as to make it rain.he wanted to try this out. Besides, it would be helping Yami out.  
  
"What you speak is utter madness!" protested the not-yet matured voice of Yami. "To make the Nile flood.when we've been in a draught for the past few months and the annual flooding weeks overdue!"  
  
"Which is exactly why I'm doing this," replied the other, walking straight out of the gates of the palace despite the many warnings the Pharaoh had given him about not leaving the palace without a guard-mainly for his own safety for his sharply contrasting features of pale skin and blue eyes. Especially right now when there were some supporters of Ptolemy who believed that it was Seth who framed Ptolemy and got the former High Priest executed. Those people were thirsty for Seth's blood.  
  
Hesitant, Yami pulled his purple cape over his quite distinguishable features and continued to follow Seth, his chase having slowed to nothing more than a following pace. "You've heard the Pharaoh, my friend," Seth continued, "If the Nile doesn't flood soon, we may have to ration food, and there's no question that many people will starve themselves trying to give the rations to their children. And your father will die. Is THAT what you want?" He whirled around, his long hems of his apprentice garb drawing up the sand beneath his feet. The other's face was covered by the large purple cape, but his movements were still perceivable. Seeing his friend give a mute answer with the shaking of his head, Seth turned back around and walked into the Nile River, pulling off his beige robe in the process. He could have done this in the privacy of the back garden that Yami was given, inside the privacy of that playground, but something inside him wanted to make it into a spectacle, he wanted to be noticed.  
  
"What are you doing, Seth?!" the caped form shouted after him. "You do not have the magical abilities to do such complicated magic yet!"  
  
"Watch me," Seth challenged as he placed the palms of his hands onto the surface of the water, the magical blood inside him instructing him through. He then lifted his head and his hands to the heavens and fought for a spell. When he couldn't think of one off the top of his head, he recalled a song his mother used to sing to him when it rained.  
  
"The sky's darkly black, it's going to rain. Grandpa took a shovel to the garden to get taro. Dig, dig, dig. He dug up an eel instead. Hey~now that's really funny."  
  
Yami stared at his friend who was singing in some foreign language, waist high and naked in the water, but as he was about to call Seth out again, he felt fresh water drops upon his face, one after another. It was raining, Yami soon realized, raising his face to the heavens as well and seeing raindrops as large as beans fall down, filling the Nile over its rim, flooding it as Seth came wading out, a satisfied smile on his face.  
  
"You see?" Seth said over the pounding of the rain as well as the shouts and cheers of the villagers who rushed out to the river to watch the flooding. "Nothing to it." Yami couldn't suppress his laughter as he reached out and grabbed Seth, pulling him in for an embrace. No words right now could express his thanks for what Seth had done, and he could only squeeze his friend's slender form tightly as he laughed. Seth smiled as he felt the power surge inside his body.  
  
"You can take over this kingdom with my power if you wanted to." a voice in the back of his head whispered. "If only you'll let me."  
  
Seth gasped at the images the voice conjured up in his head, images of slaughter and tyranny, and he drew away from Yami's embrace. He knew he couldn't stay here any longer with his power if he had no clue how to harness it inside his weak body.  
  
"I have to go now," Seth whispered, his words warm against Yami's ear as they stood in the rain.  
  
"Where?" Yami asked, confused. He saw the saddened expression on Seth's face and his heart skipped a beat.  
  
"On my pilgrimage," Seth said as he smiled wistfully, his hands on Yami's shoulders as he said this, his words part of his final farewell to Yami before he would set out.  
  
"How long are you going? Why?" Yami demanded, wondering why Seth had suggested this just out of the blue when he had done such a big thing for the kingdom and should stay to take the credit and celebrate what great harvests this flood would bring.  
  
"For maybe five years," Seth answered, his voice so muffled by his lowered head and the rain. "As for why.I cannot tell you." With that, he pulled away from Yami's warmth and walked towards the palace to gather his things.  
  
Because if I told you, you would hate me for the rest of your life.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Wow. This is the longest chapter of "Distance" I've ever written before. And it took me really, really long...it's about 2:15AM right now.and I shouldn't do this too often since it's really starting to give me headaches and dizziness. But this is basically the "end" to the first part of "Distance," which is the childhood arc. The next chapter will start the adult arc, where Seth returns from his pilgrimage, and then we'll really get into the plot. The middle of this chapter was taken from one chapter of "Final Distance" and edited since it's essentially the same sequence. At fist I was thinking about ending "Distance" with this chapter, but then the plot holes in "Final Distance" with their choppy memory lapses would be too confusing, so I'm keeping this fic running for another while. This chapter was inspired by a Taiwanese song I heard where the lyrics go "That day the sky was pouring/we were smiling so awkwardly."  
  
Sorry I had to do that to Mokuba, but that's what spun Seth off.and I will explain to the number of dragons he has later on.  
  
Thank you all once again for your reviews! Thank you for reading my fic!  
  
Oh, and for those who were wondering about the identity of the creature in the shadows, did you expect it to be Set? 


	6. Catch Up

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or anything like that...otherwise I'd be buying more time to sleep with. Grrr. Slight warning of violence and shounen-ai in this chapter.  
  
Chapter 6-Catch Up  
  
Yami sighed, placing another finished papyrus scroll onto Shimon's arms, the tip of the small hill. He sat back on his throne, rubbing his temples and summoned two servants to remove the small table they had set in front of him; his daily "scroll-reading" session was over. It wasn't that he didn't want to read all those scrolls, but some were so boring and so pointless, others were so urgent that he didn't want to deal with any of them. But as Pharaoh, Yami HAD to deal with these things, otherwise he would just be a figurehead, like his father was nearly reduced to when Ptolemy had his way.  
  
Around two years ago, about three years into Seth's pilgrimage, Yami's father Amenhotep had passed away silently on his sick bed. The late Pharaoh had been ailing with a natural but nevertheless mortal disease that ate away at his health-a sort of lung disease or something. The royal healers soon announced that they could do nothing to help him and the Pharaoh was kept comfortable until he passed away. And since his tomb had such an early start on it years ago, there was no real delay in his burial and Yami's succession to his throne. But now there was a rumor about a famous tomb-robber named Bakura that was raiding nearly every tomb of kings, and considering how kings just seemed to get richer and tombs more elaborate, Yami was getting worried about the safety of his father's tomb. He looked up at his five priests and sighed.  
  
About a year and a half into Seth's pilgrimage, Ishisu returned from her pilgrimage, bringing her brother back with her. The young man's name was Malik, but because of the prejudice against southern citizens, Yami insisted that he take the name "Mahaado." Mahaado was very strong magically, but with that he had strangely dark attributes, a trait that Ishisu said passed on within the men of her family.something about a pact their ancestors made with a god. It seemed that he no longer had the power to contain his powers, and thus she brought him back to the capital to seek help. Yami appointed him as one of his priests within a heartbeat, seeing as how strong he was and it made Ishisu very grateful that the Millennium Item Mahaado was granted allowed him to harness his dark powers. The years changed Ishisu, however, for the woman had grown slightly distant, but she was still kindly in a higher, more charismatic way. Mahaado took after her, but was slightly more talkative and approachable. Still, there were times when Mahaado was so serious it made Yami want to just take that white headdress from his head and hide it somewhere, hoping that perhaps it would fluster the priest. But Mahaado brought with him an apprentice named Mana who was enough of a handful that Yami didn't have to take a practical joke into his own hands.  
  
Mahaado was appointed to protect the tombs of the past Pharaohs since he had such an affinity with the dark, and he was doing a pretty good job. But this Bakura character was a force to be reckoned with, considering how he's already broken into two of the Giza pyramids' chambers. Such a situation brought troubles to Yami's mind, and he had asked Mahaado to add more guards to reinforce the security at Amenhotep's tomb, but that would also mean raising taxes on the people. He hated when he felt like he was shoving all the problems on Mahaado's shoulders, but he didn't want to delve into Mahaado's job too much, thinking that it would insult the priest. Now, the aforementioned priest was giving Yami a great look of concern with his large violet eyes, ever expressive and full of loyalty. "Pharaoh," he whispered, "Are you all right?" Rubbing his temples again, Yami nodded and smiled weakly at Mahaado, who shrunk back slightly from the informal stature the Pharaoh was showing him. "Yes," whispered Yami, who waved his hand to dismiss Shimon for the day as he stood up. Today was too good of a day to be cooped up inside, and he felt almost desperate for a walk. "I am fine, Mahaado, would you like to join me for a stroll in town, to say the truth?" With a smile, Yami approached Mahaado and offered his hand, which was just a gesture for the Priests were not permitted to physically touch the Pharaoh, but Mahaado bowed and hovered his hand a few inches over Yami's, his eyes closed in respect. "I would be honored, Your Highness." The reply said, Yami moved his hand and nodded, striding away to his chambers to don his peasant clothing while Mahaado did the same in his own respective room.  
  
The day wasn't particularly hot, but it was a bit musty and Yami felt uncomfortable in his civilian clothing. Annoyed, he tugged at it slightly, but not enough to show his face nor his unruly hair. At his side was Mahaado, following just a few steps behind, not complaining too much about the humidity of the day since it was almost always like this in the southern regions where he was born. The two of them unwound in the afternoon market quietly, not sharing many words since they never really had anything to say to each other outside the boundaries of politics. Mahaado knew that right now it wasn't really the right time to talk about politics; Yami's day was done as far as formal business was concerned, and it didn't do any good to intrude on his private time with his own opinions, and so he kept his mouth shut. This action and respect, however, only made Yami uncomfortable. Such formalness in the palace and all around him in general was suffocating him. Nepotism had slowly taken over his life again as well, and this time hitting closer to home. Even though after three years of pilgrimage and training didn't strengthen him any, Akhenaton was appointed as one of the Pharaoh's advisors by Yami when he returned. He wasn't strong enough to hold one of the Millennium Items, nor was he even magically fitted to be a priest, by Yami felt a bit guilty at what happened to Ptolemy, Akhenaton's father.  
  
There was one more space in the position of High Priest, though.one saved for Seth. He longed for Seth to return, for his friend to be back at his side so that he can once again have someone to chat with about games and things like that.  
  
The memories of Seth, in Yami's mind, was almost like a small breaking rope that had thinned into a string over the past few years, hanging onto what little childishness Yami had.  
  
As the two of the palace's inhabitants wandered wordlessly through the markets, they didn't take notice as they had suddenly strayed into the darker parts of the back alleys. Mahaado stopped in his tracks and looked around, his large violet eyes picking up about five larger men who had followed him and Yami into the alley, blocking the way they had come from. No longer hearing the sound of Mahaado's feet scraping against the sand, Yami also stopped and his brows furrowed when he saw four other men crowd in front of him, none of them looking too friendly. It was when one of them flicked a knife out that Yami figured that both he and Mahaado were in trouble; he would have shouted for guards, but it was not like it would do much good at this point. These muggers would have taken one of them hostage by the time guards came here, if there were any here since not many guards even bothered to patrol this area, and if not hostages, then their throats would have been slit a long time ago. Clicking his tongue in his mouth, Yami motioned for Mahaado to walk closer to him, and he himself backed away from the four bandits on his side until his back was against Mahaado's. Thankfully, the priest did not make any move to inch away from him or protest about his contact with the Pharaoh, right now was really not the time to worry about such things.  
  
"So, Mahaado," Yami whispered, his expression a mix between grimness and exasperation, "Anything you can do that won't kill them?"  
  
"Not really," Mahaado sighed, his tone more than worried, it was almost breaking in tension. "If I unleash my powers from the ring, just about this whole neighborhood would be killed.and I'm not close enough to the palace to summon anything."  
  
"Great." Yami muttered, rolling his eyes. His body tensed as he saw one of the men lick the blade of his knife, sending chills down Yami's spine.  
  
"I'm sorry, Your Highness."  
  
"Don't apologize!" Yami hissed, "And don't call me-" His reprimanding words were cut short as the robber with the knife advanced forward and took a swing at Yami's face, sending the Pharaoh crashing into the brick walls surrounding them all. Mahaado made a sound of surprise and tried to turn around, but he was grabbed by two of the men in front of him.  
  
"What are you two babbling about?" the seeming leader of the bandits droned, his head cocked to one side. "You shouldn't be holding a conference when people are robbing you!" He sneered, apparently bored by the fact that his prey wasn't struggling or putting up a fight, and he swung a foot into Yami's stomach, knocking the wind out of the young Pharaoh as Mahaado screamed for them to stop. Wiping a trail of blood from his lips, Yami stood and yelled as he lunged at the man, knocking the knife out from his hand. In a flash, Yami and the larger, bulkier man were on the ground, tumbling around in the dense space between the two walls of the alleyway, wrestling each other in a fight for life. Mahaado struggled within the grasp of his two captors to try and help his sovereign, but he couldn't even make them budge an inch from their current position with all his squirming. But the help didn't seem to be needed too much as Yami gained the upper hand in the fight, rolling over on top of the robber and punching him in the face to produce a sickening crack indicating one broken nose in favor of Yami. Seeing that the situation was wrong, the other members of the gang who were originally watching rushed forward and pulled Yami off their leader, causing him to be as immobile as Mahaado. Cracking his broken nose back into place, the leader of the alley muggers stood and sneered at Yami, punching him in the stomach.  
  
"Now where have I seen you before.?" the man muttered, looking intently at Yami's face. "You're a strange-looking one." The idea that the teen he was pummeling was the Pharaoh having not registered in his mind, the robber picked his knife back up. "No matter," the large man said, licking the blade again. Flicking the blade in his hand for good measure, the robber picked up the Millennium Puzzle that hung around Yami's neck, cutting the rope. "I guess I'll find out when the news bringer tells about it tomorrow morning after they find your body in a ditch." Hearing those words, Yami's face paled considerably and Mahaado took in a sharp breath. The situation was desperate now, and Mahaado figured that perhaps killing everyone in such a low-down neighborhood would be nothing when it's weighed with the importance of the Pharaoh's life. He lowered his head and mumbled silently in his mind for Yami's forgiveness before muttering the incantation to release his powers from the Millennium Ring. But before he even got through the first two lines of the spell, the once dark alley was filled with a flash for blinding white light. Unable to take the light, Mahaado squeezed his eyes shut, almost afraid that this was the light at the end of the tunnel, that the two people who had grabbed him had heard him incant his spell and stabbed him or something of the sort. He heard Yami scream something, the last thing he saw a figure strolling up to the entrance of the alleyway, shrouded in white.  
  
Only when the seething heat of the white beam dissipated into the humidity of the day did Yami and Mahaado dared to crack their eyes open, and both were quite relieved that they were still standing in the alleyway instead of the halls of judgment in the underworld. The band of robbers were down, all of them suffering from severe burns, groaning and whimpering for help. Yami looked up at the tall figure shrouded in white who advanced towards one of the robbers who kept a steady grip on the Millennium Puzzle, making a derisive sound before pulling it out from the seared fingers. Turning around, the individual extended his large, tanned skin and offered the puzzle back to Yami, who took it with a nod of thanks. "Th-thank you so much for helping us," Yami stammered, amazed at the strength of the mysterious person's magic. He'd only seen such blinding white light once, and that was about five years ago, in the Shadow Realm.  
  
"Pity that your bodyguard couldn't have done it sooner," a deep voice replied. Mahaado shot the tall man an offended look, to which the figure laughed at. "I'm surprised you're hiring such useless people, Yami," the man continued. At that, Mahaado advanced towards the man, looking up but not seeing his face due to the white cloak that covered his face. 'The only things that were slightly obvious were the wisps of long brown hair that managed to escape being covered by the obscuring cloth. "I'm not a bodyguard," Mahaado protested, trying to be as civil as he could. "I happen to be one of the Pharaoh's six High Priests. And you happen to be speaking to the great Pharaoh himself, how dare you address him by his name?!"  
  
"Didn't get much taller," the man commented, shrugging. It was then that Yami noticed a spot of white on the back of the man's tanned hand. A small gasp escaped his lips and he grabbed the man's large hand, wiping vigorously at the hand until the brown oil that was sticking to the skin was removed, revealing skin that was as pale as the finest ivory.  
  
"Seth.?" Yami whispered, looking up. The cloaked figure made a sound somewhat like a chuckle and went to pull off the hood of the pristine white cloak, unveiling his face. Surely enough, it was the face that Yami had remembered so well, only older.and.there was something there that Yami couldn't put his finger on, but right now he was so overtaken by joy that he didn't care. It was Seth, with the same soul-tearing blue eyes that were now curtained by long brown bangs. The elegant face was framed by long russet hair that had not been cut for the past five years, a rule of the priests' pilgrimage. Seth's stature now held a sort of unspeakable pride, some sort of defiance and world-weariness that made him seem much older than he was, but Yami still saw a spark of childishness in his eyes and his voice.  
  
"Took you long enough to figure out it was me," Seth teased, hiding his hand under his cloak now that it was rid of the brown oil he had smeared over himself to not look too conspicuous. With one swift motion, the hood was back on his head, but not so much that his features were completely hidden now, and his azure eyes glowed from beneath the white veil of cloth as well as the earth-colored veil of his own bangs.  
  
"When did you return?" Yami asked, having to look up now that the boy who used to be his height had grown nearly two heads taller than him. The height intimidated him some, but the familiarity of Seth's presence washed away the feeling of uneasiness in the other's height difference compared to his. "Just today," Seth answered, "I was hoping to give you a surprise, so I came in through the back alleys as to not cause a ruckus. Ra knows that you would be here." Though there was no smile upon his lips, Seth's voice was smirking, as were his eyes. Heart nearly bursting with child-like excitement, Yami couldn't help but embrace Seth at the waist, a motion he did without hesitation during their childhood. This drew a small sound of disapproval from Mahaado, and the two looked at him, Yami slightly embarrassed and guilty at neglecting him and Seth in mere amusement. Yami turned and motioned for Mahaado to come into the small circle and the priest obeyed, walking within two feet of Seth. The brunet, to Yami's surprise, backed away from the two of them as soon as Mahaado stepped in, uncomfortable at the stranger invading his space. Now it was Seth's turn to be "out of the circle." Sighing, Yami gestured towards Mahaado, his hand flat, palm facing up. "This is Mahaado," Yami introduced, "Ishisu's younger brother." At that, Seth smiled lightly and bowed to Mahaado, walking back within personal distance from the two of them.  
  
"I'm Seth," Seth introduced himself simply. Mahaado's violet eyes widened slightly at the sound of the name and he bowed. "I am honored to finally meet you, High Priest," Mahaado whispered.  
  
"Not yet," Seth answered lightly. "Not High Priest yet."  
  
"Yes, but there is a space left for you," Yami said proudly, "There has always been a place left for you. And I've also constructed just the thing for you."  
  
***** Sighing, Seth slipped on the white satin robe that had been prepared for him for the cleansing ritual. He didn't understand why there was such a rush to get him cleansed and appointed as High Priest, but he HAD been away for five years when the pilgrimage usually took only three years. This left the space empty for two years, but then again, he wanted to be strong enough and worthy enough to fill the space when he returned. Drawing a sharp breath, Seth opened the large wooden doors that lead to the cleansing room and stepped in.  
  
The cleansing room was a large room in the palace that was really a fancy word for "huge bath used for priests and priestesses" in Seth's opinion. The room was hardly ever used since it was considered holy and is only used when new priests and priestesses are to be appointed into priesthood. Here they were cleansed with water that had been blessed by the sun through the large hole that had been dug in the ceiling identical to the size of the rectangular pool on the ground. Torches surrounded the pool and the walls were a sleek black, covered in carvings of prayers and blessings to the priests-to-be as they were cleansed.  
  
Seth looked first at the reflection of the setting sun on the surface of the water, and then at Yami, who stood at the other end of the pool to receive and bless the priest once he is cleansed. With a great breath of excitement and nervousness, Seth stepped into the water, slipping off the soft robe around his shoulders, leaving him naked. As soon as he was in the water, the flames in the torches surrounding the pool erupted a ghastly bluish white color, dancing in their cold colors and yet burning hotter than they had before-like pure light. Yami started from the sound the flames made, but then kept his eyes on Seth as the youth closed his haunting azure eyes and bent his knees, submerging his head into the waters. After a brief moment that seemed all too long for Yami, Seth rose from the waters and approached the edge, where Yami had been staring at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw for the whole time.  
  
The moment Seth stepped out from the waters, the blue flames returned to their original sun-like color and Yami found, to his embarrassment, that his cheeks felt as though they were that exact same color. He hadn't noticed before, when there was that brown oil and cloak over Seth, how pretty Seth was. Now that the oil was washed off and the youth was standing in full dripping wet glory in front of him, Yami could see how the years have shaped Seth. He was lean, but well-toned, and his skin had only gotten paler despite his five years of training out in the desert. Water droplets fell from his bangs and onto his long eyelashes only to fall again like rain on his full, faintly pink lips. Small rivers ran down his arms and his back from the bath, and the light from the flames kissed his pale skin, making him seem slightly tanned with their pale orange color. Taking a sharp breath, Yami stepped back to the table where Seth's clothes and Millennium Item were, grabbing a towel and handing it hastily to Seth, who took it with a nod of thanks. He then dressed in the rich purple robes that were handed to him, grimacing slightly at the color.  
  
"What's wrong?" Yami asked, seeing the frown on Seth's features.  
  
"It's purple." Seth whispered, pulling the unearthly white cloak he had been wearing on the streets onto the hooks of his tunic's shoulder pads, making a turn in front of Yami as he swung the cloak onto him. From the back, Yami could see, from the hem of Seth's collar, vaguely, two sets of scars running down Seth's back by the way they were cut. Yami nodded and placed a hand on Seth's shoulder, knowing what the color meant to him.  
  
"Just think of it as a reminder of your hatred for them," Yami muttered. "It is a robe that is fit for kings, Seth." Seth said nothing, turning back around to face Yami before he got down on one knee before his Pharaoh, who then reached for the Millennium Rod that had been reserved for Seth for the past five years-the most powerful of the seven Millennium Items which priests can ever have the hope to hold. With a small twist of his wrist, Yami unsheathed the dagger from the Millennium Rod and, with his other hand, reached out to gently take hold of the long locks of brown hair, severing it with one swift motion. The hair fell to the ground, some of them brushing Seth's shoulders slightly before dropping at his feet. When the last strand of brown silk fell to the ground unceremoniously despite this ritual, Seth bowed his head and lifted his hands with his palms facing upwards to receive the Millennium Rod. Yami sheathed the dagger back in, placing the golden item onto those delicate pale hands that do not seem weathered at all even after five years alone in the desert. As he was admiring the pale skin, however, a small disfiguring color flashed across Yami's line of vision, causing him to look twice and frown. On the near- perfect skin of Seth's left wrist was a scar of a short road that was sought after but not successfully taken-a scar that ran across the skin and most likely drew a lot of blood considering how large it looked. Such a sight made Yami furrow his brows and bite his bottom lip. Seth, upon standing, saw the change in Yami's expression.  
  
"What's wrong, Yami?" he asked, concerned.  
  
"No-nothing," Yami answered, turning the golden bangles on his left wrist subconsciously, feeling the warmed precious metal rub against his unmarred, un-discolored skin. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning to open the door leading outside to the courtyard. "Come," he beckoned to Seth, "It's still a while before the banquet, I want to show you around."  
  
"It's not like I haven't lived in this palace, Yami," Seth said with a slight teasing scoff in his voice. Yet even as he said this, he was shrugging and following his young ruler out the door into the courtyard and through the freshly paved path to their old barren playground which now has been transformed into an aroma-filled garden of a million nuances of flowers that danced in the fiery light of the approaching evening. Standing at the edge of the cliff where the two boys used to play their childish games was a red bone-like structure. Upon closer inspection, one could see how it was made to be like the hawk form of Horus, his grand eye in the center of the figure like the life-sustaining heart. Seth made a small utter of surprise and approached the structure, allowing his fingers to trace the details and work of the red metal, feeling the fading heat from the day on the metallic surface.  
  
"What do you think of it?" Yami asked, anxious for Seth's approval. His voice of anticipation as well as the look in his crimson eyes was almost mirror to that from five years ago when he had waited, with much impatience, at Seth's results from fortune-telling. The taller of the two turned and smiled lightly at Yami, showing his silent approval and intoxicating Yami's mind with the rich blueness of his eyes at the same time. Mentally shaking his head, Yami walked forward and gripped, after a split moment of deliberation, Seth's right wrist and lead the two of them back to the palace as the sun began to set over the horizon. Once the two of them were back in the palace, Yami glanced around the hallways before quickly leading Seth into his chambers before any watchful guard could catch him sneaking Seth into his royal chambers.  
  
His room hasn't changed much, only gotten more elaborate, if that were at all possible. Of course, some things had to be replaced during the five years due to wear and tear, and some of the paintings on the walls repainted when it faded, but otherwise the room stayed relatively in tact with the image inside the ocean of memories in Seth's mind. The soft reddish purple light of the setting sun seeped into the room from the large windows around the room, and Yami went to light a lamp, illuminating the grand chamber and showing some scattered games on the floor much like a child's room. "You haven't changed much," Seth said, glancing around with an appraising eye. "Why is it that you had to look like you were sneaking a criminal into the room?"  
  
"One word," Yami answered as he went around the room lighting all the other oil lamps that were nailed to the walls. Seth stayed stationary in his place, afraid of treading on the games if he were to move. "'Akhenaton,'" the young Pharaoh finished. Brown eyebrows knitted from the name and Yami made something that sounded like a laugh and a cough of disapproval. Which one it was, Seth couldn't tell since Yami's back was to him as he got something from a table. "He didn't stray far from his father's footsteps, did he?" Seth asked, placing his hands on his hips. He had a hint of suspicion in his voice that was a mere fraction of the one welling inside his mind. If Akhenaton were still around and having so much power over the Pharaoh and his guards, then something must not be very good. Yami shrugged and got up from where he had been picking up something like a huge wooden board on the table, striding to his bed and motioning with one hand for Seth to come. Adhering to the silent order, Seth approached the bed and sat down across from Yami, looking down at the board Yami had brought over.  
  
"Just a couple of games," Yami suggested, handing Seth black pieces for his side. "Until the banquet.and we can also catch up." Seth accepted, collecting the black pieces from Yami's hand and placing them on their respective blocks on the board. Soon, the two of them were engaged in quite the casual game as they chatted.  
  
"How is his Highness?" Seth asked, placing one piece down, advancing.  
  
"He passed away a few years ago," Yami answered, sending one of his pieces out to defend his side.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be, he would be happy that you actually still remember him enough to ask."  
  
"Of course I would," the reply sounded slightly offended, the piece being clicked down harder than before. "He was like a father to me."  
  
"Then maybe you can help Mahaado at guarding his tomb. Thieves have been getting into it recently."  
  
"I'll see what I can do. Speaking of which, how's Shimon?"  
  
"He's doing all right, just suffering from a heart condition recently." The voice sounded worried and the piece nearly dropped from those tanned fingers.  
  
"That bad?" Seth looked up from the game. Yami clutched his tunic and hunched his back, breathing in labor. "Yami?"  
  
"N-nothing." Yami gasped. The robbers had hit him harder than he had thought, and he was really starting to feel it now. Seth pushed the game board aside and crawled towards Yami on the bed, lifting the white tunic despite Yami's obstructing hands, grimacing at the bruises and slight cuts on the tanned skin. "Why didn't you tell anyone about it?" Seth asked, sounding much like he was reprimanding a child. Yami gave him a glare that told Seth that the High Priest had just offended his masculinity and the brunet sighed, his hand moving to a pouch he hung on his belt, the Millennium Rod making a click against his nails as he did so. Pulling the pouch off his belt, Seth opened it and produced a few leaves, which he put into his mouth. He then placed the side of his head upon Yami's lap, his face towards Yami's exposed navel. "I'm going to need to borrow your lap," he announced. After that, no real sound came from his lips except for the crunching of leaves inside his mouth. Immediately after the crunching of leaves ceased to sound, Yami felt as though he was going to scream when he felt a mouth against the bruise on his stomach along with the cool, tingling sensation of the herbs that Seth had chewed up. It felt somewhat like seven years ago when he had been bitten by the snake, but perhaps it wasn't so innocent anymore on his side, having spent his life in the capital city of Egypt while Seth spent the most important five years of adolescence in the desert. Seth's mouth felt hot and cold at the same time, the wetness of the tongue applying the crushed herbs to the wounds too much to take. Seth didn't seem to take note in Yami's discomfort and moved his head up slightly to get a bruise the robbers had made when they kicked Yami mercilessly in a spot just below his ribs. In the small movement, Yami felt Seth's breath ghost against his skin and lashes as soft as butterflies flutter across his skin, and he released a suppressed groan. At the sound, Seth pulled back immediately, his face expressionless but those deep pools of cobalt aghast.  
  
"Did that hurt?" he asked.  
  
"No-I mean-yes-I mean-" Yami stammered and looked away, his face flushing horribly. Seth smirked at Yami, his blue eyes narrowing in a childishly sinister way. "Weakling," he teased, "You can't even take that bit of pain." The spiky head whirled back around immediately and Yami pressed Seth's head back onto his lap. "Oh shut up!" he shouted only to let out a pained yelp when Seth slapped the back of his hand against Yami's bruises. Annoyed, he slapped Seth's head lightly. The two of them exchanged attacks at each other before they finally got too tired and settled down, Seth's head still on Yami's lap.  
  
"Just like old times, huh?" Yami asked, leaning back and letting his arms support the weight of his upper body.  
  
"Yes, but back then it was your head on my lap," Seth answered. Yami made a small derisive sound and shifted his weight so that he was leaning over Seth again. He pulled Seth's left hand up and studied it, causing the reclining boy to stare up at him. "When did this happen?" Yami asked. His thumb rubbed at the old scar, and Seth tried to look away; but due to his position on Yami's lap, all he could do is stare straight at the door. "A long time ago," Seth answered. His hand was limp in Yami's until he heard a click and felt warm metal over his skin, causing him to turn his head around. Yami had taken off the large golden bangles on his arm and fastened it onto Seth's wrist, over the scar. He repeated the process with the other arm even though there was no scar there, but he wanted it to match. Upon finishing his work, Yami regained possession of Seth's left wrist, caressing the gold bangles with his lips. "Don't do it again," Yami said, "It is a foolish thing and I don't want you to do it ever again, do you promise?"  
  
A small scoff answered him and Seth pulled his arm away. "It seems that I'm promising you a lot, aren't I?" he asked, his blue eyes peering up at Yami's crimson ones. "Then I'll need you to make me a promise.promise me that you will give me the greatest honor a priest can have in his lifetime of serving his Pharaoh."  
  
"What's that?" Yami asked, leaning down to brush away a strand of hair that had gotten into Seth's eyes. His cartouche pendant slipped out from beneath his tunic and dangled just above Seth's face. Seth smiled lightly at this apparently innocent act, but his face grew stern as he named his stakes. "You must promise to bury me in the same tomb as yours when I die. If I happen to die before you, keep my body in a crypt until you are due to enter the Underworld," Seth whispered. His voice was almost as soft as the early night-time breeze outside, but the subject was the exact opposite, sending chills down Yami's spine. But it was true, the greatest honor a priest can have to his Pharaoh is to be able to be buried with him in order to serve and protect him even in the afterlife. Nodding, Yami accepted the request; Seth was his friend, of course, and to be able to keep him by his side even in death was not only an honor for Seth, but for himself as well. "Of course I will," he said. Relief washed over Seth's features and he toyed at the dangling cartouche pendant like a kitten to a piece of string, his mind going over how this small disk had once saved Yami's life.  
  
"And.Seth." Yami started, his hand going to Seth's shoulder. At the slightest bit of touch at his shoulder, Seth tensed and then relaxed with a sigh, a small gleam of fear sparkling in his eyes for a split second. "What happened here." The flinching ignored, Yami allowed his finger to go under Seth's white cape and tunic to trace at the deep scars on his back.  
  
//"I don't want to hear anymore of it. You have to promise me!"//  
  
"Nowhere." Seth answered, batting Yami's hand away. "I guess I did something stupid during these past five years."  
  
"You can't scars like these in the desert unless you've had a run-in with bandits, Seth," Yami insisted.  
  
"Well, I-"  
  
"Excuse me, Your Highness, it's time for the ban-" the voice of Ishisu interrupted the two boys' argument and the priestess stopped abruptly at the scene in front of her. A hint of a smile played at her lips as well as a blush and she bowed. "Excuse me," she apologized after a moment's silent awkwardness. "The banquet to honor Seth is ready, we are all awaiting your presence at the Grand Hall." Yami nodded as Seth rose from his numb lap, his thighs suddenly feeling a bit cold at the absence of Seth's warmth there. "I understand, Ishisu," Yami said, the authority returning to his voice. "We will be there shortly." Nodding her head, Ishisu bowed and retreated from the edge of the chamber doors, leaving Seth and Yami alone again. Sighing, Yami stood, stretching himself after having Seth on his lap for the past near-hour. He then seemed to remember something and walked over to a table in the far corner of the room, returning with a tall and quite ridiculous looking purple hat. With a soft unclenching of his fingers, Yami let the hat fall onto Seth's head and adjusted it so that it snuggled against the soft brown hair and made sure that the headdress wasn't too tight. Seth bowed, the formality of this "backstage ritual" settling in, and he stood to follow Yami out of the room.  
  
When the young Pharaoh and his newly appointed High Priest arrived at the banquet, most of the guests were already seated and the food served, but none of them touched any of the food except for Akhenaton, who complained that he was starving. Seth made a slight face at the sight of him and his rudeness, being a glutton in the presence of those who were trying to respect the Pharaoh. Upon seeing Seth, Akhenaton grimaced inwardly but stood up with a hearty laugh and welcome. "Seth, it's been years!" he shouted over the indistinct chatter of the other guests, "How have you been? Sit, sit! We must celebrate your return as well as your appointment into priesthood!" Yami shrugged as Seth gave him a suspicious look and sat down on his small, comfortable hill of cushions, pulling Seth down next to him.  
  
"Come, bring the wine," Yami ordered to the servants who lined the walls of the Grand Hall. Seth scowled, alcohol was not his best field, in fact, and it could be considered his worst. When the servants returned with huge urns of wine to be poured into the smaller serving jugs, he knew that he would be in for a long night. The jugs were passed from guest to guest, and for the jug to be given to Yami, it had to be passed to Akhenaton first, then Seth, and then Yami since there was really too much clutter in the hall at the moment. As the wine jug left Seth's hand, he caught a whiff of a bitter aroma that did not belong in the wine. He turned to look at Akhenaton as he was handed his own jug of wine, and he sniffed his own- it smelled sweet.and the look on Akhenaton's face did not rest well with Seth.  
  
//So this is how it is.//  
  
"Come, let us drink to celebrate Seth's return and appointment as High Priest," Yami announced, raising his goblet. "Now that all the spots are filled for the six priests, we can expect great blessings from Ra." As he tipped his goblet to drink, Seth reached out and gripped Yami's wrist, drawing several disapproving gasps from the guests.  
  
"My wine is too warm, Yami," Seth complained as he released Yami's wrist to take hold of the Pharaoh's golden goblet. "May I trade for yours?" As he said this, he shot a glare at Akhenaton, who stared at Seth.  
  
"Sure, Seth," Yami said, shrugging. Seth smiled in thanks and switched his wine, jug and all, with Yami's. He then sat there and watched his wine, noting how it looked like it was turning black. "Come now," Yami urged as he saw Seth staring motionless at his jug, "Drink a bit." At that, Seth nodded wistfully and tipped the golden goblet, emptying the contents of the drink into his mouth, the spiciness and sweetness of the wine stinging his tongue but not covering the bitterness of the poison as much as he would like.  
  
After staying for about another five drinks, Akhenaton left in a huff, saying something about how he had important matters to attend to. Upon his departure, Seth also stood up, claiming that he was feeling ill, which in truth he was.to a certain ironic extent. The poison was nearly as potent as the poison of the snake that bit Yami years ago and it was now coursing through him without any hope of being extracted. "I should have drunk a whole gallon of sesame oil before I went to that banquet." Seth muttered to himself as he stumbled through the hallways towards his chambers. He had to stop along the way to cough up what little bit of food he had eaten during the banquet, but it proved to be hard to figure out exactly what he ate since the contents that were emptied from his stomach were all black like the poison that infested his body.  
  
"I can't die.not now." Seth wheezed as he clutched his heart, feeling the strong clotting, suffocating effect of the poison; he had to shift all his weight on one hand that pressed against the wall to support himself. As soon as those words rolled off his tongue, he felt a cold, dark presence behind him. "Set?"  
  
"At your service," the creature said, approaching Seth and placing a soothing and yet intoxicating hand on Seth's trembling back. "I can help you, you know.remember I said that I will keep you alive until your wish of protecting your Pharaoh is fulfilled.I can do that right now.keep you alive until the threat of Akhenaton poisoning your dear Yami is gone." The voice was so soft, so smooth, and yet it held a haunting note in Seth's ear, and he shuddered even more, the voice sending more chills through him than the poison did presently  
  
"Will you?" Seth whispered through the black bile that was seeping through his lips.  
  
"Of course," answered the creature, his gold eyes glimmering in the moonlight. "I will help you.until the day your blood turns completely black from the poison and the threat is gone. All you have to do is give the word."  
  
Blue eyes clouded by haziness of the poison looked as though they were on the edge of tears and Seth gave a sharp nod that looked more like a gesture of begging. Set smiled and walked around Seth, lifting the boy's face up to look at his. "Then I will stay in here.and give you some of my powers." With that, he placed his hand on the Millennium Rod, then on Seth's forehead, willing the boy to fall asleep as he caught him, sweeping him off his feet.  
  
In his own chambers, Yami wondered about the sudden disappearance of Seth, blaming it on Seth's intolerance to alcohol. Sighing , he slipped off his large red cape and fell face first on his soft, luxurious bed. He was glad that Seth was back, of course, but something inside his heart gnawed at his consciousness and he plucked at his sheets, trying to figure it out. "What is this feeling.?" Turning his head, Yami smothered his face into the sheets and noticed, almost to his very own horror, that he had obsessively made his bed to be scented with lotus.so that it would smell like Seth.for the past five years.  
  
That night, a certain creature smiled to himself as he bit the fingertip of his prey, chuckling when he saw the shade of the blood that oozed out to be a slight tint of red-brown.  
  
To be continued.  
  
I am so sleepy.I feel like my eyes are going to go blind if I keep doing this. Sorry that this chapter is so choppy and stuff.I'm on a bit of a writer's block for this story since I've been inspired to draw recently. I really need to get this story organized.so I'm glad that I finally got around to typing up an outline.  
  
Yes, I know that Seth is really too friendly and mild-mannered in this chapter, but it will all start going downhill from here. I'm serious. He won't be so innocent soon.ahahahaa. For those of you who are waiting for updates to "Final Distance," you might have to wait a while since that fic is almost ending and will give spoilers about this one if I don't hurry and let them catch up with each other. Sorry and thanks for all your reviews again! I've saved them on my disk and I read them every so often^^  
  
As for the powers that Set lent Seth.it's the power to control memories (which is a power of the Millennium Rod other than the power to extract ka from people's bodies and seal them into stone). And about Seth's comment about the sesame oil.if you drink about a quart of it, it will create something like a protective layer in your stomach from poison and then induce you to throw it back up afterwards (cuz of the reek and the heaviness of taste-it'll shock the stomach). But then again, it might not, so I will not be held responsible if you decide to go and try this out and end up getting hurt. Yeah. 


	7. Beginning of the End

Disclaimer: I don't own them.and you should ALL thank Ra that I don't.  
  
Chapter 7-Beginning of the End  
  
The instant Yami opened the curtains to the scroll room; he had to choke back the urge to cough as dust flew into his face, nearly suffocating him. He blinked back the stinging tears that were brought to his eyes by the small specks of dust and pried them open, veiled a bit of tears. Through the gossamer blanket of saline, Yami saw the one he had been looking for- his High Priest. Said youth was currently sitting on top of a tall stool in front of the many shelves of the room, a scroll opened over his lap and several others at his feet as he studied, oblivious to the young Pharaoh who had just intruded.  
  
"Seth," Yami said, knowing that Seth wasn't going to notice his presence if he just stood there. The voice broke the silence in the stale room, and Seth picked his head up from where it had been hanging over the scrolls and he turned his gaze to Yami. "Yes?" he asked, his one finger on the surface of the scrolls, a sign that he wanted this conversation to be short.  
  
"You're late for the morning audience," Yami pressed, annoyed. He tapped his foot impatiently, hoping that perhaps the tapping will send enough tremors through the ground to jolt Seth's finger from the scroll so that he would give up on reading it today. But by the stature that he was giving Seth, it didn't take the dragon tamer long to see that Yami was annoyed, and he stood, sighing. "I got it," he said, "I'll go after I clean this mess up." His feet touched the ground lightly as he hopped off the tall stool, careful not to step on any of the preciously fragile scrolls.  
  
"No, NOW," Yami ordered, thumb gesturing towards the Grand Hall. "The servants will clean this up." Seth wrinkled his nose and shot Yami a bit of a glare that was obscured by his long bangs and the dust that still lingered in the mid-day air. "What's the rush?" he inquired, going to the small table in the room to retrieve his tall priest's hat.  
  
Turning, Yami lifted the curtains at the door again, lingering as he waited for Seth to follow. "No real rush," he answered, sounding faintly apologetic, "It's just that recently I feel like I have appointed a food tester instead of a High Priest." The statement in itself wasn't all false, either, to Seth's own dismay. For the longest time, Akhenaton would not give up on trying to poison Yami, sometimes poisoning his food, but most of all his wine. Every time dinner rolled around, Akhenaton would sit at a place where the food and wine would be passed to him first, whereupon he would poison it before handing it to Seth, who would always pick up the poison by mere scent alone and refuse to pass it to Yami. But due to his promise those five years ago, Seth never made a scene about the poisoning, nor did he indicate any hints of suspicion to Yami. All that was ever done on his part was to make up some pathetic excuse to eat the young Pharaoh's food and let him have his. This sort of action made Yami a bit perplexed as well as slightly annoyed; he trusted his people enough to not have to appoint a food tester, and he didn't understand why Seth persisted in these proceedings when nothing seemed be wrong with the food at all. In fact, he almost told Seth flat out that he was going too far when, on one occasion, Seth had ordered all the wine served to be dumped out, claiming that the grapes used for the wine had gone bad before the wine-making process. What Yami did not know was the fact that Akhenaton had poisoned all of the urns of wine when he sneaked into the kitchen that day. With each passing failure, Akhenaton was getting more and more hateful of Seth, but also weary of his method of murder. Perhaps it just wasn't working. Perhaps it was time to stop and move on. Perhaps he had to first try and get rid of Seth, and then try to get rid of Yami.  
  
Swiftly waving his hand for the servants, guards, advisors, and priests to stand up from their bowed positions, Yami strode into the Grand Hall to settle down on his tall throne. Once he was on his throne, Seth bowed and stepped down to Ishisu's side, across from Mahaado, his place among the six priests. He crossed his arms and held the usual stoic expression he had when he was in crowds. He, for one, did not like crowds, and loathed the morning audiences more-peasants coming in to complain wasn't the worst of it, it was Akhenaton's useless interruptions that bothered Seth, and it seemed like today wasn't going to be much different since the man was standing there in the crowd of lesser advisors.  
  
"The scrolls, if you will," Yami said, turning to Shimon. The stout scribe bowed deeply before turning to several other servants to take the first batch of scrolls for Yami to go over. Seth and Yami, though unbeknownst to each other, shared a collective mental sigh at the mountain of scrolls that reared its ugly head. It would seem that the day was going to be longer than the one before now that trading season was at its peak, signifying a possible raise in crime and other problems. Heaving an audible, physical sigh, Yami reached over and pulled a scroll that didn't seem to have that wide of a radius.  
  
Just as he was about to unroll the scroll, however, a man burst into the Grand Hall, knocking down several guards at the front door and almost literally stepping over several unsuspecting guards inside. His screams were uncharacteristic with his large mountain-like size, and this alone made Yami put down his scroll immediately, eager that this hollering, arm- flailing intruder would bring an interesting turn of events to an otherwise boring morning audience. He stood from his throne and made a gesture for the guards to allow the man to speak since he seemed all too nerve wracked to be an assassin. With a moment's hesitation, the guards nodded and backed away from the man, who, upon seeing that the guards were no longer trying to arrest him, managed to calm down a bit.  
  
"What seems to be the problem?" Yami questioned. He crossed his arms in front of his chest as he waited for an answer-patience was never his best virtue. The man huffed for breath and then finally fell upon his knees in front of the young ruler; a motion that he should have made the moment he ran through the gates of the palace. With his head bowed so deeply that it touched the ground, the man groaned and stated his purpose for storming into the palace like a madman.  
  
"P-please help my children!" the man shouted, his head still bowed. "They're going to drown in the Nile!"  
  
"Drowning in the Nile?" Akhenaton muttered, "What concern is that of ours? Why can't you jump in and save them yourself?"  
  
"Akhenaton, no one gave you permission to speak," Yami growled, his crimson gaze falling upon Akhenaton, who bowed lightly in forced submissiveness and retreated back into his line of lesser advisors. Scoffing, Yami turned his attention back to where it was before it had been averted-to the man begging for help. "Why is it such a problem that you must run in here?" Yami questioned, somewhat perplexed at the idea that a man would be so aghast over a drowning. Sure, it was his family, and Yami was sure he would be just as frantic if his father or Seth had been drowning in the Nile, but. "Why didn't you go in to save them yourself or asked a friend to help?" Yami stated his thoughts quickly, afraid that with every moment that they spend here talking, it would bring this man's family closer to death.  
  
"T-the spirits of the Nile! Th-they are p-pulling my children down!" the man explained, tears coming to his eyes. At that, Yami's eyes shot towards his priests, who looked at each other with worry and confusion. Spirits in the Nile were caused by dead bodies in the Niles, but they were not common, for the people of Egypt respected the Nile enough to not stain its waters with the bodies of the dead. Therefore it must have been done by some ignorant foreigner, but even then, burials of dead crew members onboard of foreign trading ships were regulated by the laws of Egypt. A few gears turned and clicked inside Mahaado's head and he whirled around on his heels, his large white cloak flowing about his and the Millennium Ring clanging against his chest in his large movement. "Weren't you the one who was appointed to regulate the burials of the foreign sailors, Akhenaton?!" he accused, glaring heatedly at Akhenaton. The tall-nosed man sneered at Mahaado, causing the priest to snarl. Ishisu stepped in between the two of them, her eyes going first to Mahaado with a reprimanding look and then to Akhenaton, the glow in them absolutely murderous and accusing.  
  
"Enough, Mahaado," Ishisu upbraided. "Right now the matter at hand is to save the children and seal away those vengeful spirits so that they may not act maliciously ever again." She then looked over at Seth, who had his Millennium Rod out and ready since the mention of spirits in the Nile was heard through the Grand Hall. Lifting his head, his blue eyes peered at Yami's red ones, requesting permission to go and handle this. The request was granted immediately, of course, and Yami smiled at Seth.  
  
"Go and handle this best you can," Yami said. "Guards, go and assist High Priest Seth if he is to find the children." The guards bowed at the order and marched out the Grand Hall to await Seth, who approached Mahaado.  
  
"Mahaado, I'll need you to help me find the children by using your Millennium Ring to track their aura," Seth instructed Mahaado. The darker priest regarded Seth with uncertainty, but nodded nonetheless. "Their aura might be too small to trace.or even nonexistent now," Mahaado replied in a worried tone, his hands going to the ring to lift it up upon his splayed palms. "If not by their aura then at least by the aura of the demonic ka that binds them," Seth urged as he started for his chambers in the high towers east of the Grand Hall. Mahaado nodded and continued to concentrate as he tried to keep up with Seth's footsteps while not bumping into anyone on the way to Seth's room.  
  
At about the fifth circle Seth and Mahaado made on their way up to Seth's private chambers, rays of black radiance spiced with small specks of gold shot out from Mahaado's Millennium Ring, illuminating the otherwise dimly- lit tower staircase, giving the already grim place an even more haunting note. The sight made Mahaado shudder, his usually calm and mature violet eyes softening from boy-like fright. Seth grimaced at the light, or rather, the blinding darkness that threatened to swallow both of them up. And the small specks of gold light gave him little hope, but he hung onto that hope and ran up the stairs, not caring now whether or not Mahaado was keeping up with him. "Where are they?" he shouted over the sound of his doors slamming against the stone walls of his chamber as he tore through the entrance to his own room. "They're by the delta of the Nile," Mahaado said, letting the Ring settle back against his chest, the golden ornament still swelling with power, the small spikes dangling around it floating erect in the direction of the red bird-like structure perched on the cliff near the delta of the Nile. Seth nodded and quickly pulled on the proper attire for a ritual of this sort, throwing off the rich purple garb that he usually donned-he hated that color anyway. Tossing his tall purple hat onto his bed, he grabbed a sash-like headdress that he wound around his head and folded just above his ears, letting the excess of it flow behind his ears. When that was done, he inspected his attire, making sure that every sash and belt was secure on his blue tunic, which he wore over his white robe. The final touch he added to his apparel was the usual pristine white cloak he always wore around, swishing it across his shoulders. He gave Mahaado a glare when he turned and saw that the other priest had just stood there dumbfounded the whole time and muttered a small insult under his breath before seizing his Millennium Rod and storming past Mahaado, back down the stairs.  
  
"You're dressed like you're going to a funeral ritual," Mahaado commented, rushing after Seth.  
  
"That's because I'm GOING to a funeral," Seth answered, annoyed. "If those spirits are too strong, it might be my funeral as well. I'll have to lure them out with my blood." Unsheathing the dagger from his Millennium Rod, Seth made a small cut across his left ring finger to test the dagger's sharpness. But the sight of his own blood made his heart stop and his breath catch. His blood had turned brown. From behind him, Mahaado made an audible sound of surprise, causing Seth to whirl around in fear and anger. He cannot afford to have Mahaado going around spilling his secret. "You saw nothing," Seth hissed in Mahaado's face. Violet eyes were surprised for a second, but then grew heavy in understanding, and Mahaado nodded, causing the ring on his chest to move a bit, catching Seth's attention. The gold light that emitted from the depths of the overwhelming darkness was all but gone now, and Seth hoped that he wouldn't have to fish more corpses out from the Nile than he needed. Grimacing at the thought, he picked up his pace and dashed out to the cliff of the delta, where a crowd of guards and servants of the palace as well as Yami had gathered, hoping to find the lost children. Seth furrowed his brows at the idea that these people were here-if anything, they should be at the opposite end of the river looking for the children. But when he approached the river, he knew immediately why the crowd had congregated here. Apparently, the restless spirits of the dead who were dumped in the Nile were so powerful they had reversed the flow of the Nile itself. This was not going to be an easy task.  
  
With a heavy sigh and one swift jump, Seth landed on the top of the bird- like structure, standing tall at the head of the statue of the hawk-god Horus as he looked down at the swarming waters below. The Nile now seemed to have a dark life of its own now, the water flowing backwards and faces of the spirits who could not pass on screaming, tearing at the surface of the waters as though trying to break out of their murky, watery prison but with no avail. Pitiful screams rang through Seth's body, shaking his body as well as the bony structure he stood on, and he slowly unsheathed the dagger from where it lied hidden within the Millennium Rod, glad that the crowd was so absorbed on the sights below instead of on him. Usually he would have hungered for the attention to be on him, but not now when his blood was a dark shade of brown, almost nearing black. With a soft pull of his right arm, Seth made a cut over his palm and watched with horror and disgust as his blood, the color of dirtied mud, oozed from the cut his dagger made. Clutching his fist closed, Seth walked towards the edge of the frame of bones, steadying himself with some trouble now that the spirits below grew restless at the smell of blood.  
  
"Everyone back away!" Seth shouted over the agonized cries of the beings below, and guards rushed over to push the on-looking crowd several feet back from the edge of the cliff. Nodding in appreciation, Seth opened his fist and swung his hand out so that the blood would appear like mud being thrown at the waters instead of stained blood oozing from a wound on his unnatural body. The creatures below went wild at the taste of blood, craving for more. In their insatiable greed, the creature erupted from the waters below to grab at Seth, to swallow the youth up. Their form surprised even Seth; he had not expected them to get so physically dense in such a short amount of time! Unable to react quickly enough to their attack, Seth was seized up by their slimy, leech-like.arms, if one could call it that. Within seconds, the lithe form of the High Priest disappeared into the abyss of cackling vengeful spirits, his white cape the only thing that they tore off and neglected.  
  
"SETH!" Yami shouted, running to the edge of the cliff as the swarm of spirits ebbed away and settled back to their swarm beneath the water's surface. He gripped the edge of the cliff and hunched his back to look down, trying to catch a glimpse of the High Priest, for any sign of whether or not Seth was alive. He squinted as a speck of gold pierced through the pile of water ghouls, sending horrific cries from another world ringing through the walls of the cliff next to the river. Yami stepped back when the spirits began to squirm restlessly, as though suffering from indigestion, when Seth tore through the thick layer of phantoms with the dagger of his Millennium Rod in one hand and the pointed end of the sheath in the other. He was dripping with the putrid waters of the river that had soaked up the death of their corpses, but still alive. Taking one heavy step out from the shell they imprisoned him in, Seth turned, as though dancing, floating on the surface of the waters, and sliced through the onslaught of ghouls who still wished to devour his flesh. When those were rid of, Seth sheathed his dagger once more and raised his arms towards the heavens, the Millennium Rod clutched tightly in one hand.  
  
"May your spirits find peace, wherever they may go," he whispered. A ray of light welled up around the Millennium Rod, growing in luminosity as Seth began to chant, showering over the mass of spirits who fell into decadence in the waters. He swung his hand towards the palace, and the thick tar- like substance that had just nearly killed Seth a moment ago separated from the waters, rising up in a mass of screams. One final shout of a spell from Seth's lips sent that mass to the palace walls, sealing those creatures into the stone walls of the palace like ghastly decorative carvings.  
  
Once the darkness that blanketed the brines of the Nile lifted and was sealed, the reversed waters stopped flowing altogether, drawing astonished gasps from the spectators above. And, as though a heavy cloud had dissipated above them, the spirits of the dead whose vengeful auras have been sealed away emerged from beneath the waters, bringing up with them their decayed bodies as well as the children. A heavy shroud of sadness came over Seth's cobalt eyes as he saw the two children surface-he had been too late to save them. Slowly, he bent down and scooped up the children in his arms, the burden of guilt weighing him down despite how light the children actually were.  
  
"Your bodies are no longer fit to house your spirits," Seth announced to the spirits around him. "Go now and unburden Hecete. Your bodies shall be cleansed according to your customs." Several of the spirits glanced at each other with some doubt, but then nodded and uprooted their lingering emotions from their flesh bodies, allowing them to ebb to the meager shores at the bottom of the cliffs, piling up within minutes. A sigh escaped Seth's lips, pressing on dead child's head against his chest, the sheer heaviness of the children laboring his breathing. He then raised his head and saw that his discarded cloak still fluttered overhead.  
  
"Cleanse their bodies!" he shouted, his voice carrying out the canyon, magnifying as though shouting from one end of a trumpet. The white cloak stilled in the wind, and ripped apart from the center as it emitted the same blinding white light that Yami remembered so well despite the infrequency he's seen it. Two majestic dragons formed from the just previously flimsy cloth, one swooping down to pick Seth up upon its back whilst the other spread open its mighty wings, roaring, waiting for its command. The smaller one carried Seth out of the deep, narrow canyon of the river and the audience all watched with awe and some of them fear when Seth stepped onto the bird-like structure, the grime of the waters and the bodies dripping off his skin, his clothes long since soaked through. Ghastly blue eyes shone from beneath the veil of sopped brown bangs as he leapt lightly off the frame of red bones, walking past a splitting crowd to the man who now saw clearly that he'd lost his two children. Gingerly, the man held out his hands, arms out-spread to receive the children Seth fished out from the river. He bowed deeply despite the horrified whispers from the on-looking crowd. Seth bowed as well, his angle a bit more acute than the other's, his guilt weighing his back down. The man stepped away then, almost frightened by the mere presence of Seth, and the High Priest walked back to the edge of the cliff where his two dragons awaited, still in flight. One wave of Seth's hand and they heeded to the silent command, opening their mighty jaws and each projecting a massive ball of energy. A gigantic blue-white fire erupted over the still-wet bodies, drying them and burning them to cinders within seconds. The ghosts who had once inhabited those bodies all wept collectively, their eyes closing and hands clasped as the fire spread and swallowed them up, sending their souls away. Only when the fire cleared did the water start flowing the correct way again in the Nile. The dragons swooped back above Seth and once again draped themselves on his shoulders as the white cloak he always wore around.  
  
Seth's job here was done. But the show was not over.  
  
"Belgae demon." Akhenaton whispered, drawing hushed murmurs from the crowd around him.  
  
"Did you see his eyes? They were glowing."  
  
"How can we be sure that he was the one who killed the children and sealed their ka up as well?"  
  
"He is so strange.sealing ka up in one thing, but being able to physically cut through them.he's a monster."  
  
Annoyed, Yami stepped out, his stance in front of Seth a protective one. "That's enough!" he shouted, his voice rumbling above the crowd, silencing what defaming words floated amongst those ingrates. "Seth had just restored the way of life for all of you! Is this how you thank him!?" His reprimanding speech did not draw cheers of gratitude from the crowd, however, only a few more hushed whispers before the crowd dissipated, fearful of Seth. It wasn't like Yami was expecting the crowd to cheer and lift Seth up on their shoulders; he knew that the major population of Egypt had always been quite xenophobic, and Seth just stood out like a sore thumb. And now such show of magical abilities will only make him more arcane in their eyes and more hated in their hearts. They feared him before, but now the fear will most likely turn into hate.  
  
"Seth." Yami whispered, going to Seth's side.  
  
"I'm all right. We must pay our respects to Hecete for this mistake we had made." His tone was so soft, so flat that it was barely audible over the sound of the rushing waters below, and this bothered Yami. The look on Seth's face was tell-tale, but what exactly was it supposed to tell, Yam did not know. Neither was he sure of whether or not he wanted to know. It seemed like he was waiting for something.  
  
"I'll have Akhenaton do that," Yami replied after a moment's thought. Turning, Yami regarded his sniveling cousin with a good amount of disgust at the fact that he still had the face to remain there.  
  
"What are you doing, still standing here!?" Yami barked. "Go and get some offerings ready for Hecete! I want to see them on the altar of her by tonight!" Right away, Akhenaton bowed and scampered away, dashing back towards the palace. Having emptied his anger towards the crowd onto Akhenaton (who basically started those horrible whispers), Yami turned back to Seth, who continued to stare down at the Nile, at the clotted cut he had made on his palm. He seemed like he was in a trance or his own soul had been sucked away by his Millennium Rod. Such a sight made Yami apprehensive about touching Seth, afraid that the High Priest would fall over and shatter by the way he was just standing there. But when he did finally lay one tanned hand onto one pale, exposed shoulder, he had to suppress a gasp at just how much grime covered Seth along with the dried water mixed with a tad of salt from the mouth of the sea just beyond the delta. A flinch greeted Yami's touch, and Yami slowly added pressure to Seth's shoulder, turning the youth around.  
  
"You did the best you could, Seth," Yami whispered, "There's nothing else you could have done." After a second of consideration, he gave Seth a reassuring pat on the shoulder, one that he would always give when they were young. "Why don't you go and get yourself cleaned up? Someone will call you when supper is ready." A mute nod was his only answer, and Seth bowed before brushing past Yami to go to the tower where his chambers were. Yami glanced down at the clear waters below for another minute, sighing, and then began his trek back to the palace as well.  
  
With a scoff of disgust, Seth pulled his now blackish green clothes off his back, throwing them onto the ground as to not soil his bed with its sopping sliminess. That taken care of, he also yanked the restricting head dress from his head, letting it join the pile of sullied clothes before setting his Millennium Rod down onto his bedside table and going to a warm bath that awaited him.  
  
At the same time, Akhenaton had finally gotten around to going into the kitchen to ask for some offerings he can give to Hecete, the goddess of the Nile River. He was quite reluctant to do something like this, believing that it was servants' work, something he was quite above doing. But then again, Yami seemed quite serious when he ordered him to do the offering ritual, and he did not want to test out Yami's wrath. "Where can I find some wine to offer to Hecete?" he asked one of the members of kitchen staff. The young girl preparing the fish for tonight thought for a second, her answer slow for she had never seen Akhenaton before and thus did not know of his stature. Just as Akhenaton's short temper was about to erupt, she shrugged and pointed at the wine cellar's door. "Why don't you go and get some from the wine that's being prepared for supper? No one ever finishes all that anyway."  
  
When Seth stepped out of his bath, dressed in a pure white tunic, he nearly dropped his towel at whom he saw sitting on his bed.  
  
"Set," he whispered, his blood freezing over inside his veins. He wondered what this creature wanted now even though in the back of his mind he knew full well what was going on.  
  
"Quite a spectacle you put on there," Set whispered, his velvety voice purring, sending goose bumps over Seth's skin. "So tell me, is that your grand exit? To show people exactly how strong you are? OR is it something like a. 'I'm so sorry I made a deal with Set, but I'm using my powers for good.'" The mocking tone sparked a bit of anger in Seth's heart, but the mere fright and doubt of Set's presence shadowed over that.  
  
"What do you mean, 'Grand exit?'" Seth asked, backing away from Set.  
  
"You know what I mean." the creature answered, gold eyes glimmering in the setting sun. He pushed himself off the bed with a light press of his hands on the soft mattress and edged towards Seth, his gold eyes never leaving Seth's blue ones.  
  
Akhenaton stared at the mountains of urns that stored the wine for the whole palace. Not only were they for the supper tonight, they were most likely for the many suppers that will come within the next few weeks! A small inkling of hatred welled itself inside his heart and he pulled out the pouch of poison he had been using for the past month or so in order to poison Yami. But he had failed those times because Seth always switched the wine before Yami could drink it. If he were to poison all of these urns, then it would be a sure-fire way to get rid of the High Priest AND the Pharaoh. His hand shaking, Akhenaton pulled at the drawstrings on his pouch and opened one urn.  
  
"No I don't know what you mean," Seth said. It was a blatant lie, but he didn't want to admit that he figured the time was just about up.  
  
"Tell me, Seth," Set asked, his fingers going to the Millennium Rod, lifting it from where it rested on the bedside table. "Why do you dress in white? Is it to cover up your unclean impurity?" He unsheathed the dagger from the Rod and lifted Seth's one shuddering limp arm, opening his loosely clenched fist. He drew a small line over Seth's index finger and looked at the brown blood that oozed from the fine line.  
  
Growling, Akhenaton clutched his fist around the poison pouch and yanked his arm back. Why was he wasting his time and efforts, anyway? It's not like Seth had been showing signs of being poisoned every time he drank the poisoned wine. Not even sesame oil can do charms every time. He didn't even look sick! And besides, Yami usually didn't drink until after all of his guests and servants drank first, his own strange sign of respect for his underlings. For them to start falling over would only give him away. Those thoughts having played themselves over in his head, Akhenaton pocketed his poison and walked out from the wine cellar with one jug of wine.  
  
And just like that, the threat of Yami being poisoned was gone.  
  
And Seth's blood turned black.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Sorry this chapter is so short.I had initially wanted it to much longer, but I didn't want to keep you all waiting, either. Thanks for your reviews again! I got ten within the first day I posted the last chapter up. Once the next chapter is up, I will be caught up with the pace of "Final Distance" and I will continue on it!  
  
Oh yeah, just so all of you know, my updates will start getting slower because.well.  
  
You know how they say that if you aren't asleep by the hours between 11PM and 1AM, you kill off about 30-50% of your T-cells? Well, apparently it's done a number on me cuz I stayed up all those times typing these stories up, and I got sick. So I can no longer stay up until 2 or 3 AM typing up updates, which will mean slower updates of my stories. I am terribly sorry.  
  
Oh yeah, in case anyone cares, I do have a small art directory put up by my brother. The site is . Please go and check it out even though I really suck at drawing! Leave comments for the pics on the reviews for the fic, please!^^ 


	8. When Darkness Meets

*crawls out from pile of work* I'm.still.here.  
  
Naoya: But your readers aren't anymore.  
  
I'm so sorry about putting this off for so long. I had originally wanted to post this up sooner, but I was bombarded by work and such, so this was put into the bottom of the pile, along with some.other stuff. Good god. But thank you for waiting patiently and all for this installment of "Distance!" On to the disclaimer and then the story!  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own them, sure wish I did.then I can put Seto in a nurse's uniform and Ryou in cute Gothic Lolita dresses.  
  
Chapter 8-When Darkness Meets.  
  
"Your Highness, what are you doing?" Shimon exclaimed as he stood up from the seat he was perched on, a slight look of pain skating across his wrinkled features. Seeing this, Yami balanced the tray of food he had taken from one of the many kitchen staff members on one hand and shot out the other to urge his old mentor to sit back down. Shimon had been sheltering a weak hart that threatened to give out at any moment, and any sudden movements brought him pain, one thing that Yami hoped to prevent. The stout old man drew in a deep breath and settled down, nodding in thanks at his Pharaoh. Seeing his former tutor sit back down, Yami smiled and held the tray with both hands once more.  
  
"I'm just going to take some food to Seth," Yami said. "It's been a while since supper started and he still isn't here.he must be too tired to come down."  
  
"Why can't you have servants do that?" Akhenaton asked, hoping that the High Priest had perhaps died of exhaustion in that high tower chamber.  
  
"Because," Yami ground out, his eyes narrowing dangerously at his cousin. How he wished to be rid of him! But he didn't want to do that same thing his father had to do-kill off a family member. One just had to accept ill fate if a family member turned out like this-one couldn't choose one's family members. "He would most likely be exhausted and apprehensive about people right now considering how you all reacted to his work today," Yami finished his statement after an awkward, pregnant pause had just about settled over the air, leaving a heavy residue on the bottom consisting of the court and all its members. Some of the six priests lowered their own heads in shame at Yami's words, Mahaado one of them. He had not joined their murmuring but he had indeed allowed his own heart to work akin to theirs-he had let doubt and fear of Seth overtake him, even if for one brief moment. Throwing one last disgusted scoff at Akhenaton, Yami turned to go towards Seth's high tower chamber.  
  
"Carry on without me," he announced over the harsh silence. Noise resumed its place over the dining crowd, even though it wasn't as clamorous as it was moments ago. A sideways glimpse at Akhenaton fro the last time told Yami that the man was not at all remorseful for what happened or by the words that Yami said and the young Pharaoh sighed one more time before he slipped into the adjacent hall that will lead to the staircase to Seth's room.  
  
"Seth?" Yami puffed out in front of his High Priest's chamber door. He was all but out of breath by the time he got up to the chamber door. Why in the world was the High Priest's room in such a high tower?! Yami cursed and remember that there really was no choice. Only in such a high place can the High Priest correctly observe the stars and such to predict fortunes of the kingdom. The thin air up here also served to purify the High Priest every night, away from the thick and polluted air below.  
  
Another knock went unanswered when Yami received no answer for five minutes for the first knock. Yami, for one, was not very trained in the patience department, plus the somewhat spoiled Pharaoh inside him could not understand why exactly he should have to wait outside his won High Priest's room and wait for admittance. That through having been rationalized in his head, Yami shrugged and pushed the door open, inviting himself in.  
  
The sight before him was enough for him to drop the tray of food in his hands. The aromatic food spilled onto the ground, the untainted wine ran and seeped through the cracks of the brick floors like the life that was now seeping and evaporating from Seth's body.  
  
"Seth!" Yami yelled. His voice was cruelly mocked and interrupted by the sound of the clay dishes cracking under his feet as he stepped over the food that he spilled, not caring about how they sullied his cloth shoes. He rushed over to the heap on the ground next to the bed that was his High Priest, quickly lifting him up off the ground, away from whatever that black mass was on the floor. Just for good measure, Yami shook the frail, lifeless form and cursed when there was no response. "SETH!" this time Yami resorted to screaming, part of him glad that they were so far from the rest of the palace that his voice wouldn't be heard, but also worried about whether or not help could reach them in time if he were to need it (which he was sure he would now). A half sigh of relief came to formed in his throat when he saw one blue eye peek open from its originally closed state, but the sigh turned sharply into a gasp when Seth quickly covered his mouth as though trying to stop the torrent of black that came spraying from his mouth. The fine mist of black dappled onto Yami's robes, but the young Pharaoh was too stupefied by the spectacle of his High Priest coughing up blackness to really mind his robes. Without another word, Yami scooped Seth's lanky form up in his arms and bolted down the long, spiraling stairs he had ascended less than ten minutes ago.  
  
By the time Yami had reached his own royal chambers, Seth was writhing in pain within his arms. A black snake named Poison swam through his veins, causing him to scream and jolt as Yami settled him onto the sheets of his bed. Seth's lips had turned a frightening color of pale purple, like the color of a worn royal robe that had been over-washed. His skin was now ashen and drenched in cold sweat that created dark spots on the silk sheets of the bed along with the trail of black that continued to froth from Seth's lips. Quickly brushing away the bangs that stuck to Seth's forehead, Yami leaned down and gripped his friend's trembling hand.  
  
"Seth!" he shouted, "What happened to you?!"  
  
Clouded blue eyes looked up at concerned red ones and a meek voice answered him. "Yami." was all Seth could get out from those darkening lips before he covered them again and clutched his chest, coughing once again. Just the act of speaking seemed to take all the more life force out of Seth, and Yami reprimanded himself for making him speak. He quickly got up from the side of the bed and ran to his doors.  
  
"SOMEONE GET ME THE HEALER! ISHISU, COME HERE!" he shouted down the halls of the palace. Several servants heard his call and immediately bowed in consent and ran off for the palace healer, and Ishisu came immediately from the next wing where the other five priests stayed. She ran to Yami's doors and bowed, but her bow was cut off when Yami dragged her into the room as soon as he saw her. He had only left Seth for a few moments, but by the time he had turned back around to observe the ailing youth, he could see that the condition had just turned from bad to worse.  
  
By now Seth's lips had turned a dangerous hue of black much like the substance he continued to cough up, and somehow whatever was ailing him from the inside had broken through the skin on his body, causing blackness to spill out, turning the sheets on the bed into a large canvas for darkness.  
  
Ishisu made an audible gasp and rushed over to the bed, kneeling down next to Seth. "What's wrong with him?" she whispered, touching Seth on the forehead. A yelp of pain escaped Seth's lips and she yanked her hand away, afraid that her touch at the moment would only unbearably hurt him.  
  
"I have no idea!" Yami shouted, frustrated. "What is taking the healers so long?!" He nearly stomped his foot in irritation when the stout old healer came into the chambers, bowing in Yami's presence. The previous aggravation that clung onto Yami dissipated when he saw the healer and he quickly rushed her over to the bedside. Seeing as to how touching him inflicted such excruciating pain upon his body, the healer took care to not make physical contact with Seth. Instead, she chanted a spell and used it to lift Seth's one limp hand and examine it. But just that act alone tore cuts into the already marred and black-drenched skin and Yami nearly screamed for her to stop.  
  
"He's been inflicted by poison," the old woman murmured after a long pause.  
  
"Then prepare the antidote!" Yami urged, feeling that giving a diagnosis now was a waste of time. She would have plenty of time after she healed Seth to give Yami all the run-down of the High Priest's ailment.  
  
"It's been rooted inside him far too deeply and for too long," the healer sighed, shaking her head. "There is nothing I can do to help him. All we can do now is to try and decrease his pain and suffering before he goes."  
  
Upon hearing that, Yami's blood ran cold and his face became nearly as pale as Seth's face during a good day. Seth was going to die--the idea rang through his head like the sound of a gong during a temple festival or something like that. He couldn't really describe what it was right now, or create some sort of interesting metaphor, nor did he really have the heart to do such a thing. His mind was such a blank; he didn't feel like he had just lost it, it felt like he'd never had it to begin with. "Seth.is going to die?" Yami asked, finally voicing what little thought he had left.  
  
Before the healer even lifted her head back up in the motion of her small nod, Yami heard something, most likely a nerve, snap inside. "Get out!" he shouted to the healer with a sharp turn of his head. "And Ishisu, stay by the door! Keep it open but make sure no one comes in here!!" Ishisu nodded and shooed the healer out the royal chambers, the old woman wobbling out with a heavy sigh; she knew how the Pharaoh felt about the High Priest, she was too old to be that stupid, and it was sad to see such a young boy get so flustered over a first love. Ishisu followed after the healer, sneaking another peek at the two who were like her brothers before her pilgrimage. Yami had now positioned himself right next to the bed; his elbows on the bed, his hands clutched together and pressed against his forehead much like a man in deep prayer. But no prayer was going to help Seth, she was sure of that. At this point, Seth had become quite still with the exception of the occasional shudders as though he were freezing. His lips had turned a very dangerous shade of black-the end was not far from him. She sighed and released the beaded curtains that were behind the heavy oak doors which she was ordered to keep open.  
  
Hearing the clicking of the crystal droplets settling, Yami lifted his head and peered at Seth, who was now fighting even for a small gasp of breath. Not sure of whether or not this was a wise idea, Yami placed his hand on Seth's forehead, somewhat glad that Seth only made a small sniffling sound of discomfort instead of a cry of pain.  
  
"Seth?" he whispered. His Millennium Puzzle made a small clicking sound on the bed next to the golden bangle on Seth's wrists, but Seth did not make a motion to draw his arm away.  
  
"Ya.mi." was the reply. It was stained and sticking with the blackness that continued to come forth from Seth's lips and it was rasping so badly with each precious breath that Seth took that it wretched Yami's heart.  
  
"Don't talk," Yami urged, lowering his head closer to Seth's. The puzzle made another click as he moved and Yami looked down at the puzzle in a slight feeling of irritation.  
  
//The puzzle.created by father like the other Millennium Items.//  
  
Something suddenly dawned upon Yami's mind then and he lowered his head more so that only Seth can hear him, even though he was sure that with his whispering, no one could really hear them beyond these walls. But he had to be safe.  
  
"Seth," he whispered next to Seth's ear, "Seth, you're going to be all right, don't you worry." With those words, he got up and was about to turn and go out when a hand gripped his rich purple robes, causing him to stumble a bit. He turned to see those cerulean eyes staring up at him with sternness, as clouded as they were. Blackened lips began to quiver and fought to move, and Yami quickly crouched down again to put his ear next to Seth's gasping mouth.  
  
"I'm.going to die." Seth whispered, a hint of melancholy in his tone.  
  
"No you're not," Yami replied stubbornly. The hand that clutched his robe tightened, shaking in an attempt to concentrate what diminishing strength was in the body. Heavy lids began to curtain those clouded eyes, and Seth fought to speak again. At this distance, his lips were almost kissing Yami's ear, and Yami's golden bangs were tickling his face, not that he could feel much of anything now except for the pain that continued to course through his body.  
  
"Please.keep your promise to me." he whispered before his hand slipped away. For a second, Yami thought that he was too late, that he had failed in trying to save Seth before he even started, but the small quivers in that pale body told him otherwise and he sighed in half-relief.  
  
"Don't die," he murmured next to Seth's ear, "That's an order, don't die.you're too important to me." He gave one last grunt of frustration and pushed his body upwards, away from Seth, and ran out the door. "Ishisu!" he shouted as he departed, "Give me a yell if something, anything happens in there!" He did not even turn his head around to look and see if she nodded.  
  
As soon as he was gone, the curtains around the large, luxurious (though quite stained) bed swayed without the help of the wind, which was nonexistent at the moment anyway. The purple silk curtains fluttered like the wings of a butterfly that had just torn itself out of a cocoon and a face formed above Seth's lithe body. Slowly, the curtains pulled themselves off the large bed frame and Set settled lightly onto the bed next to Seth, his wings spreading and encircling Seth. Smiling, the God of Chaos and Destruction lifted Seth's head onto his lap and sat there, waiting for the first signs of Seth's ba to be released from the body once his life flees from his flesh. He will eat the ba so that Seth would not have a chance at reincarnation, and imprison his ka to be his slave, just as the pact that he had made with Seth promised years ago. The golden color in his eyes flickered for a brief moment in the moonlight and he grinned.  
  
Yami dashed as quickly as his legs could carry him to the largest temple of the kingdom, the one where all the demons of people's hearts were sealed into stone tablets and placed there below the tablets of the three gods. If he could just get there in time, before Seth died, and maybe persuade the gods.!  
  
"Osiris!" he shouted as he burst through the doors. "Osiris!" Frustrated and completely out of time, Yami ran up the stairs to the altar of the temple where priests stood when they prayed to the gods, facing the three stone tablets of the gods. Before he landed his foot onto the platform of the altar, a figure appeared before him. The creature had blood red eyes, much like Yami's own, but full of wisdom and sadness. It was the jackal- headed god, Anubis.  
  
"Please be quiet in the temple," whispered the smooth voice. Even the voice of Anubis was abysmally sad, much like his eyes. "I will let you see Osiris-sama, dear Pharaoh." With a wave of his hand, Yami found himself in the court of the 42 gods, each of them sitting in their respective places, with Osiris sitting at the very front on a throne not very much unlike Yami's own throne. The Prince of the Underworld shifted in his throne and regarded the mortal Pharaoh with some interest in his gold eyes. A small hint of a smile came to his lips, sending chills down Yami's spine with its complete lack of mirth. The god pushed against the two lion heads on the armrests of his throne and got up, walking, no, floating towards Yami until he was but two feet in front of the young Pharaoh.  
  
"I think I have an idea as to what you want," Osiris said, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "But to give it, is a different issue."  
  
"Please," Yami begged, knowing that such a request was unreasonably selfish. "Please, I don't want him to die."  
  
"But you should remember that promise you made him," Osiris reminded. "For me to grant you this wish would break that promise that you made to him, are you willing to do that? Do you think he'll be happy if you do that?"  
  
"He'd be grateful that I didn't let him die!" Yami reasoned desperately. "I'm willing to do anything if you'll give him eternal life.if you'd just let him live.without having to worry about things like death and illness and old age."  
  
One delicate eyebrow quirked up as the court around the two rulers of the mortal and immortal worlds began to stir in conversation.  
  
"And what exactly are you willing to do?" Osiris questioned, drawing cries of protest from the court in the idea that he was actually considering this.  
  
"I'm willing to allow you to seal my ka into this puzzle when I die," Yami whispered, holding his Millennium Puzzle up. The court hushed at the gravity of this pact, some of them whispering amongst themselves of how selfish and selfless this young man was at the same time.  
  
One goddess stepped up from her seat, her hand raised in a gesture that she had an opinion to voice. Osiris turned his head and regarded her. "Maat?" he addressed.  
  
"Yes," Maat said. "How can you know that he will not betray in the end? How do you know that.he will not try to use this gift against you?" Yami glared at her; she was always so self-righteous it was almost a bit sickening.  
  
"He won't," Yami retorted. But he thought it over and reconsidered it. "But if he does.then all I have to do is say one word.just one, and he'll be cursed for all eternity. The spell to break the curse will die with me, and only when my ba and my ka are reunited can we find the secret."  
  
Satisfied, Osiris nodded and smiled that strange smile again. He lifted one hand and put it onto the Millennium Puzzle, his lips chanting a spell. A warm glow spread around the golden pyramid and wrapped itself around Yami for a brief moment before shooting off into the distance.  
  
Inside Yami's chambers, Set gasped as he saw the light come in from the window and enter Seth. To the god's dismay, Seth's breathing became leveled again once the light had entered him, and color returned to those once-pale cheeks. Figuring that it was his brother's doing, he growled hatefully and fled from the window in case the young Pharaoh were to return. And return he did; as soon as the magic was done and over with, Yami had to only blink once to find himself back on the platform of the temple's altar where he had ran into. The whole ordeal felt like a strange dream, but it was not the time for Yami to think about dreams at the moment- he had to see if his High Priest was all right. He quickly turned on his heels and sped out the temple, not noticing the black figure with a deep purple cape slipping past him in the shadows.  
  
"Seth!" was the first word that came out from Yami's lips as soon as he threw aside the beaded curtains to his chamber doors. Seth was lying on the bed, silently still, and Yami was afraid that he had been too late, or that the gods had not produced the miracle that he had bargained for. But upon closer inspection, Yami noticed that Seth was merely asleep, and the color on his cheeks told him that his High Priest was going to be all right. A heavy sigh of relief that mixed in with his panting hollowed the breath inside Yami's lungs and he sat down on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through those brown locks of hair. One cerulean eye peeked open and Yami quickly drew his hand away. "Sorry, did I wake you?"  
  
A small shake of the head was his answer.  
  
"Do you want anything?" Yami asked.  
  
"Just some water," Seth answered. His throat was raspy from all that coughing he had done before, and his mouth tasted bitter from all the black substance he had retched. Nodding, Yami stood up and walked out, so ecstatic that Seth was alive that he didn't mind getting the water himself instead of ordering a servant to do it.  
  
Once he was out of the room, Seth sat up on the bed and examined his hands. Yes, he was alive, and he wasn't a living dead, either. He had color to his flesh, and he could feel the warmth of his blood coursing through his veins. But what in the world could have caused this strange reversal of his death? He was so sure that with the complete staining of his blood, his part of the pact was up, so why isn't he dead? Maybe his blood wasn't as black as.well, black could be. Seth tested this thought by biting on his index finger just enough to draw a bit of blood. The thick liquid that oozed out from the small cut was indeed utterly and without a doubt black. So what went wrong? He sighed and scratched his head in confusion. Something felt wrong about this, like he had lost something important. A small whimpering sound reached his ears and Seth looked up to see one of his precious dragons, the one of his father's ka, looking at him with concern.  
  
"I'm all right, Father," Seth reassured him. But the expression on the dragon said that it was concerned about a completely different matter, and Seth sighed. "I cannot return those feelings to Yami, Father, you know that. He has a kingdom to run, he needs to get married, and he needs to produce an heir. I am not the one to get in his way." The silver-white tail of the dragon flicked once and Seth sighed again, not particularly liking the way his father teased and urged him. It's not like Seth didn't like Yami, either, but he would only complicate matters in the kingdom. His role was the High Priest, not the Pharaoh's lover or anything of the sort. He needed to play his role out dutifully, just as how Yami needed to play out his role as a great ruler.  
  
Outside the door, Yami's hand shook with the cup that he had brought Seth his water in. He had shooed Ishisu away on his way to get the water, and now he was the only one who had heard it; though he wished that he didn't hear a thing. Romances between two men were forbidden, yes, especially ones that involved the Pharaoh and the High Priest, of all people, but Yami didn't figure that the blow of disappointment would ring so hard.  
  
Further away from them, Set was storming into the court of the gods, the look of absolute murder on his handsome features. He shoved his son Anubis to the side and growled at Osiris, his golden eyes flashing.  
  
"How DARE you, Brother!" he shouted, the calm and calculating demeanor a faraway tale when he is provoked. "How DARE you get into the way of my contract like that!"  
  
"It wasn't really a fair contract, Set," Osiris answered calmly, waving his hand for the other gods to calm down as well at the rude outburst of Set. Set glared at the face of his twin, of a mirror image that was love instead of him.  
  
"What do you mean it wasn't a fair contract?!" he shouted, his purple wings spreading as his outburst continued.  
  
"Because," raised a voice in the crowd of gods, "the contract was made under the duress of death, and therefore should not be valid."  
  
"Put a lid on it, Thoth," Set growled in the direction of the scribe-god. Osiris nodded in the direction of Thoth, thanking him and silencing him at the same time as he turned back to face his brother.  
  
"I'm afraid that is the ruling, Set," Osiris said, his hand making a small gesture that announced that this conversation was over. Another growl came from Set's lips and he turned, his purple wings now melding into something like a cloak around him.  
  
"Mark my words, DEAR Brother," Set hissed as he retreated from the court, shooting a hateful glare at his own son. "That won't be the only thing you'll be afraid of. You'll wish that you never promised that childish Pharaoh his wish.and I'm sure that Seth will feel the same." With that, he disappeared back into the mortal crowd, all the other gods staring after him.  
  
Akhenaton was about to get ready for bed after putting away his scrolls and such when he felt a strong wind touch his cheek, taking out the life of the lamps inside his room. What made him feel even more eerie was the sudden sound of a velvety chuckle by his window, and he spun quickly on his heels, knocking over one of his writing tablets.  
  
There, sitting at his window, was a creature with large purple wings and golden eyes that were like glass orbs under the moon. The creature smiled, his smile lacking of mirth.  
  
"Who are you?" Akhenaton whispered, though deep in his heart he knew exactly who this creature was.  
  
"No one."  
  
"W-what do you want?" stammered the man. The creature blew a small breath and the candles were returned their flames, and the creature slipped off the windowsill, walking up to Akhenaton. It was then that the man was sure of his conjecture; that this creature was Set, the God of Chaos and Destruction. "My god, it's you." he murmured, taking steady steps backwards until his knees hit the low table in his room. "Your eyes.they're the color of."  
  
"Let's stop worrying about me." Set whispered, interrupting Akhenaton's examination of his eyes, "and start worrying about what you want. What is it that you want?" The strange smile broadened as Set held out his hand and placed it over Akhenaton's forehead, letting it hover there. "You want the throne, don't you? You want the Pharaoh dead because his father killed your father, don't you?" Akhenaton nodded, and Set continued. "And you.by surface, want the High Priest dead as well, but." A small chuckle echoed through the room, sending chills down Akhenaton's spine like the cries of the soon-to-be-dead whom he had witnessed the executions of so many times (including his own father's).  
  
"You secretly lust after the High Priest, but you hide it because you are ashamed of the fact that you lust after something that caused your father's death," Set finished, the golden flames inside his eyes flickering. Was it annoyance? Anger? Or amusement? Whatever it was, it frightened Akhenaton, but not so much as to his deepest secret being announced out loud.  
  
"You lie! Be gone!" Akhenaton shouted with an exaggerated wave of his hand.  
  
"I can give it to you," Set whispered. "As long as you promise to keep your hands off Seth and help me get rid of the Pharaoh, I can give you the throne." Akhenaton stared at Set and backed away, his face paling. He would have been appalled by the fact that his shade looked very much like that of a Belgae if he had a mirror.  
  
"But.how?" Akhenaton asked, his mind suddenly a blur. He weighed out the severity of making a pact with Set and the rewards if he did. If he were to get the kingdom, he can finally get rid of all those other unnecessary gods of this horrible religion. Only Ra was the true god over all, why didn't everyone see that? And if he were to succumb to this demon god's deal, he can finally get revenge for his father. He didn't need that High Priest once he became Pharaoh, he would be able to get his own choice in a harem! Seeing the light go off in Akhenaton's eyes, Set smiled. This man had taken the bait.  
  
"You seem interested," Set whispered. "Good, all you have to do is work with the pawns I provide.and help me play this little game with my dear brother."  
  
"Pawns?"  
  
"The first shipment will come in shortly."  
  
To be continued.  
  
Okay, I'm sorry that this one came so late and is quite crappy. I had originally wanted this chapter to be part of the last chapter, but that would have taken me too long. o But basically this chapter marks the beginning of hell, in a way. XD Thank you all again for waiting this long and so patiently for this chapter! I think the gods and such are starting to be hinting at something, right?  
  
At this point I can say that "Distance" has caught up to the pace of "Final Distance" and I will hopefully be able to update that one soon as well! 


	9. Treasure Peace Shattered by Oppression

Youko: I am once again terribly sorry for the late update, but I think that right now I have an announcement that will probably make you very mad at me: I am starting to lose my interest in YuGiOh. The process is not yet complete, I still love the infamous psychos of the show (Bakura, Malik, Yami Malik), but this would mean that updates will probably come even more slowly than before.

Naoya: Finished?

Youko: Yes. *puts blindfold on*

Naoya: *BANG!*

Disclaimers: This fic doesn 


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